


Unforgettable

by cheyla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amnesia, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 52,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4343984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheyla/pseuds/cheyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unable to cope with Sirius's death, Harry takes a potion that makes him forget everything about his life. Unfortunately, his actions lead him directly into Fenrir Greyback, and consequentially Lord Voldemort's, hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to kmoaton for betaing this story. It's been an amazing help!

Harry turned the small vial over in his hands, wondering if he had the courage to actually follow through with his plans. It had seemed like it would be an easy decision but the more he looked at the vial, the more doubt began to creep into his mind. Was this really the right thing to do? It seemed like the easy way out to him but he just didn't know if he could deal with the pain anymore. Not only did he have to deal with bearing the guilt for Cedric's death but now he also had to relive Sirius's death in his nightmares every single night. It was still as agonizing as it had been when Harry first realized that his godfather was dead and it had been over a month since Harry had gotten a full night's sleep.

He had been filled when grief when Cedric had died, someone that he had only known from school and through the Tri-wizard Tournament. However bad he thought his grief was then, it was unbearable now that it was his godfather who was gone, the one person that stood a chance at getting him away from the Dursleys and forming a real family with Harry.

Green eyes stared at the vial blankly. Was it worth it? Was it worth it to forget everything just to get rid of some pain?

Harry stared at the photo album on his bed, specifically at the photo of his parents' wedding, with Sirius as the best man in the background.

Yes, it was worth it.

Harry Potter shoved the photo album back under the loose floorboard, along with anything magical that might cause him to remember. Then he returned to his bed and took a deep breath. It was now or never. He didn't know when he would be leaving this house for Hogwarts but he couldn't risk being here when he took the potion.

The teenager snuck out of the house quietly. His aunt and uncle had given up locking his door every single night and Harry was fortunate that they hadn't locked it tonight. Harry strolled through the neighborhood, trying to find a spot where he could take the potion peacefully. He finally settled on a park right across the road from the train station. If he saw the train station later on, hopefully he wouldn't wander back to Privet Drive. He didn't want to leave permanently but he couldn't risk going anywhere that would cause him to remember right away.

Pushing away all of his thoughts, Harry uncorked the vial and swallowed the contents in one gulp. When he had researched and bough the potion, he had read that there was nothing that was currently invented that could bring abck his memories, not even the memory that he was Harry Potter. Things tended to work out differently for him. At first, he felt nothing unusual. He still had his memories and he began to think that it hadn't worked. However, before he could fully work himself into a panic, the teenager's vision began to blur. The park looked like it was spinning around in circles, even though Harry was fully aware that he was sitting down and not moving. The spinning began to increase and in a few seconds, all went black.

When he woke up, he immediately wondered why he was outside. Who would choose to sleep outside unless they were homeless? Was he homeless? He felt like he should know this but for some reason he couldn't.

The teenager looked around, trying to pinpoint where he was. Judging from the sign hanging from the train station across the road, he was in a place called Surrey. However, that didn't tell him anything. He didn't know where he was or where he should go. With hesitation, he approached the train station and looked around. There was a train coming soon but he didn't know if he had a train ticket or any money to pay for a ticket. Was that even what people did?

He wasn't sure of anything anymore. He knew the words for everything he saw and he seemed to know the basics of functioning in this world but he wasn't sure how he had learned these things or if he had learned them correctly. Still, they had to be right, otherwise he was sure that he would have stood out.

Well, he would have stood out if there was anyone else in the train station besides the ticket attendant.

Shaking his head, the teenager went into the bathroom. Maybe if he washed his face things would become clearer. He would keep following his instincts for the time being, sure that if he did something extremely out of the ordinary that someone would tell him.

As luck would have it, he found a ticket on the counter of the bathroom sink. It was slightly damp but it didn't look like it had been used. The teenager examined the ticket carefully. King's Cross Station. He didn't know how to get there but it sounded much more interesting than Surrey. Maybe if he went there he would be able to find something he recognized.

It was such an odd feeling, wandering around having no clue where he had been or where he needed to go. He could only hope that he was doing something right.

Before he left the bathroom, the teenager glanced at himself in the mirror. He didn't look like anything special but he was certain that his shaggy, messy hair and his too large clothes meant that he was homeless. Oh well. He was sure that there were worse things in life than being homeless. At least he didn't have any possessions to worry about taking onto the train. The only thing he found curious was the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead but he couldn't remember how he had gotten it. At least it would make him identifiable to anyone looking for him.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The ticket attendant stared at him curiously as the teenager presented the ticket but said nothing. When the teenager asked, he was given directions and the names of which trains to take. It was surprisingly easy, which he was grateful for. He had a feeling that normally things didn't work out so easily for him, though he couldn't say why. As the train left the station, the green-eyed teen sat down and waited for his next stop to come.

King's Cross Station was a lot larger than the Surrey station had been, the boy realized when he arrived. He was on platform 5 but now he wasn't sure where to go. Which way should he go out of the station? As he stood, trying to decide what to do, the teenager failed to notice a stranger watching him from across the station with a shocked look on his face nor did he notice the strange man's approach.

"Well, look who it is. The famous Mr. Harry Potter," a deep, sarcastic sounding voice said from beside him. The boy looked at the speaker blankly.

"Where is he? I don't think I've seen anyone famous before. I feel like that would be something I could tell my friends."

The man stared at him in surprise, his eyes narrowing.

"Are you playing with me?" he asked in a voice that sent shivers up the teen's spine. He sounded dangerous.

"I'm not sure what you mean. Where is this famous Harry Potter, though? I've never heard that name before. Is he a foreigner?"

The man stared at him for a few long seconds, eyes searching his face. The boy couldn't help but notice that his eyes landed on the scar on his forehead more than once. Then the man pulled out a thin piece of wood and muttered a word that didn't sound English to the teen.

The teen blinked and stared at the man who was in front of him.

"Hello," he greeted the man. "Do you need something?"

There was an unreadable look in the man's blue eyes. He had gray shaggy hair and his beard made his appearance seem even wilder. When he spoke, the teen noticed that his teeth seemed to be sharper than normal—or at least what he thought was normal.

"We've been looking for you," he said. "What were you thinking, running off like that?"

"Do we know each other?" the teen asked, tilting his head in confusion. "I don't believe I've met you before."

"You foolish boy," the man grumbled. "Your mother is worried sick. You shouldn't have gone out so soon after your accident." Green eyes widened.

"My m-mother?" Somehow that was a surprise to him. "You know my mother?"

"Of course I do," the man snapped. "Now let's get you back before you get into any more trouble. It's not safe out. Even you should realize that, memories or not. What if you had come across the wrong person?"

The teen gave a bitter smile.

"Then I guess it's best that you found me before that happened then, isn't it?" he asked and tried not to grimace in pain as the man gripped his arm tightly. "What's your name again?"

"Fenrir Greyback."

The name seemed vaguely familiar to the teen but the sensation of familiarity didn't make him recognize the man.

"Where are we going?" the teen asked as he was dragged along by the man who had identified himself as Fenrir Greyback.

"Back," Greyback growled, starting to grow annoyed by all the questions. His plan had better work. Otherwise, he was going to regret not killing Harry Potter on sight.

"Back where?" the teen asked. Greyback didn't answer. Instead, he disapparated, teen in tow.


	2. Chapter 2

When his head stopped spinning and feeling like it had been dragged through a vacuum, the teen looked around. It seemed to be a largely open space with just a small manor perched on top of a hill.

"Where are we?" he asked. "How did you do that?" Greyback ignored his questions but that didn't stop the green-eyed boy from asking questions. "Seriously, how did we get here? Is it some sort of special ability? Do I have that ability as well?"

"Be quiet," Fenrir finally snapped, tired of the boy's chatter. "There are people trying to sleep."

The teen's cheeks flushed and he silenced himself, despite the number of questions he had bubbling up inside of him. He was especially curious as to how they had gotten to the manor from the train station. It was almost like magic.

It never occurred to him that the concept of magic seemed to be a normal one for his mind to make.

Once they were inside the manor, Fenrir brought the teen into a small sitting room. "Don't wander away," he ordered. "I'll be back shortly."

Before he could be asked where he was going, the werewolf left the room, in search for a very particular werewolf.

She was still awake, thankfully. It wouldn't have stopped Fenrir if she had been asleep but her being awake took up less time.

"I need your assistance," he said. "I've come across a lost wizard and you need to treat him as if he's your pup. Don't ask any questions yet. I'll explain once he's asleep but right now, you need to act as if you're his mother. Call him your son's name. For all intents and purposes, he will be taking your son's place since your son isn't of any use to me right now."

The female nodded, making no comment, and followed Fenrir down to the first floor sitting room. The man cursed wildly when he realized that the room was empty and that he would need to locate the teen. Silently, the female trailed after him as Greyback began to track the teen. They didn't need to go far. Fenrir found him in the larger living room, watching some of the younger pack members play Exploding Snap. They either hadn't noticed the stranger or had decided that he wasn't the threat. Fenrir hoped it was the latter because he didn't have the patience within him to give another lecture about always being on guard.

The teen turned to Greyback and looked at him curiously.

"How are they making the cards explode?" he asked. "Are they supposed to do that?"

Fenrir growled and gripped the back of the boy's neck before dragging him back to the sitting room.

"Did I not tell you to not wander off?" he demanded furiously, turning the frightened teen to face him, still maintaining a tight grip on his neck. "Do you never listen to those that are older than you? I told you to remain in the sitting room and yet you deliberately disobeyed me."

As he lectured the teen, the woman trailing behind him got a glimpse of green eyes and a lightning bolt-shaped scar. Her eyes widened but she remained silent. Fenrir certainly had some explaining to do, especially if she was to mother the poster child for the people who had sent her son away.

When Fenrir's lecturing began to wind down, she stepped in.

"Oh, Heinrich, where did you get to?" she asked, easily stepping into the role of a worried mother. "You had me worried!"

The green-eyed teen stared at her blankly.

"Who are you?" he asked. He hadn't noticed a woman trailing behind Fenrir Greyback, but he hadn't really been able to turn his head thanks to the man's grip on the back of his neck. Once Fenrir released him, he was able to look at the woman better. Her hair was dark and messy like his, but she had warm brown eyes that were slightly haunted. Her mouth quivered at his question.

"Do you not remember?" she asked. "I'm your mother, Saskia."

The name didn't sound familiar to him at all.

"My mother?" the teen asked again. Saskia nodded.

"We were so worried when we discovered that you left. You shouldn't be wandering around in your state."

"What did you call me again?" the green-eyed teen asked. "Heinrich? Is that my name?"

Saskia nodded and approached him. She took his hands with hers and caressed them lightly.

"Let's get you into bed," she said softly. "It's been a long night and I'm sure you're still tired. We can talk and explain everything once you've had some sleep."

Saskia had to force herself to keep up the façade, something that grew harder to do as they approached her son's room. She didn't want anyone to sleep in her son's room as she still didn't want to accept that it was empty, but she knew that she had no choice. Fenrir wouldn't accept her son any longer and the man had made it clear that she was to consider this boy her pup now.

As the teen—Heinrich, she had to think of him as now—started to undress and get ready for bed, Saskia went and fetched a glass of water. After a few seconds of deliberation, she grabbed a vial from a locked cupboard. She was lucky that this potion was clear, as it allowed her to slip its contents into the glass of water.

Her hands shook as she entered the room and saw the teen—Heinrich—in her son's clothes. She was surprised that they seemed to fit, despite being slightly long.

"Are you settled?" she asked, smiling warmly and handing him the glass of water. Heinrich nodded and started to drink from it. Saskia waited and watched until he was sound asleep, before going through the room and picking up any sort of photograph or newspaper source. It had become clear that the teen formerly known as Harry Potter had no idea who he was. If Fenrir wanted him to believe that Harry Potter was instead her Heinrich, she would have to ensure that there was nothing he could stumble upon that would show him otherwise. That meant she would have to store away all of her photographs of Heinrich.

When she was done, Saskia went to find Fenrir. She needed explanations and she needed them sooner rather than later.

"You brought Harry Potter into our household?" she asked, angry at the deception. "The Dark Lord will kill you if he discovers that you've had Harry Potter in your hands and haven't brought the boy to him." And then he would kill the rest of the household for not reporting the matter.

"He doesn't remember who he is," Fenrir said. "I have a plan, one that will bring the Light to their knees if it works. If this works, we'll have won the war forever."

"And how does having Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, in our household fit in with your plan?"

"His mind is an open book. If he doesn't know who he is, why should his beliefs have remained? We can meld his mind to fit with our beliefs. That's where you come in. You need to subtly place the beliefs of our Dark Lord in his mind and convince him believe that's what he truly believes. If you succeed, I'll make sure that you get a promotion."

"It's a risky plan," Saskia warned. "What if his memories come back? You couldn't obliviate him. If you did, all of that work would go to waste."

"If his memories come back, I'll just bite him," Fenrir stated. Saskia quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms at this back-up plan.

"He could still go back to the Light then," she pointed out.

"And be an outcast forever. I doubt that his popularity would survive if he became a werewolf. If I would bite him, he would be forced to either join our side or be an outcast and we all know how torturous that is for our kind."

"He has a prime teacher for how to survive as a lone wolf, though, should that ever happen."

"Lupin can be dealt with," Fenrir snarled. "And the life of a lone wolf is not something that can be taught. I'll make sure the boy stays on our side one way or another. Trust me."

"Then we should tell the pack. We can't have them attacking him on sight now, can we? Not when he's supposed to be family."

"Go tell them," Fenrir ordered. "And tell them that if they call the boy anything other than Heinrich, I'll gut them myself."

As sunlight streamed into the room, green eyes blinked open. Naturally, the teen reached for his glasses, which he typically kept on the bedside table. Instead, he found nothing.

"Other side," someone said from the foot of the bed. The teen turned over and felt around for his glasses. When he finally found them, he put them on and looked at the speaker. It was the woman from the night before—Saskia.

"Do you remember who I am?" she asked.

"Saskia," the teen said. "My…mother." The word felt foreign to his tongue.

"And do you remember your name?" Saskia asked, her brown eyes sharp. The teen thought for a second before he could remember a name.

"You called me Heinrich," he said. A small smile crossed Saskia's lips and she gave a small nod.

"Small steps," she told him. "We don't expect for you to remember everything right away. We don't even expect for you to remember anything at all before last night. We're just glad that you're safe."

"We?" Heinrich asked. "Like family?"

"Yes, the pack," Saskia said. "They were worried about you last night when you disappeared."

"Pack?" Heinrich questioned. "Why do you say pack? Isn't that for animals?"

The dark-haired woman sighed.

"There's a lot we'll need to reteach you," she said, rubbing his leg in a comforting manner. "But don't worry. Soon it will seem as if you never lost your memories."

"Do you know how I lost them?" Heinrich asked. "Or how I got this scar on my forehead?" He hadn't remembered it until he had rubbed his hand across it.

"The scar was from your childhood," Saskia said calmly. "You and your friends always liked to play rough. As for your memories…only you could have been able to tell us. One day you had them and then the next…" she trailed off and looked distraught. "We assumed it was a potion. I'm so sorry, Heinrich."

"A potion? Wait—why are you sorry?"

Saskia left the foot of the bed and moved toward Heinrich. She grabbed one of his hands and rubbed the top of it with her thumb. Tears were glistening in her eyes.

"You've had such a hard life," she said. "Especially recently with the war. You were so much happier when you were younger but after you came back from your…imprisonment, you always saw the dark in everything. I still hate the Ministry for what they did to you. You should have never been locked up in that manner. They ruined your life!"

"I was locked up?" Heinrich asked. "Why? What did I do?"

Saskia's voice quivered as she spoke.

"You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time," she said. "They judged you unfairly because of me. I'm so sorry. They imprisoned you wrongly because of my werewolf status."

Werewolf. The word was unsurprising for Heinrich, so he assumed it must be normal for him to hear.

"It's not your fault," he said, trying to placate his mother. "I returned obviously."

"But you were so distraught," Saskia said. "I'm afraid I didn't realize how bad things were for you. I didn't realize things had gotten to the point where you must have thought it was better to take a potion and forget your entire life than live with the pain."

Heinrich didn't know how to respond to that. How could he comfort her? It had been his decision—according to Saskia, anyway—and she shouldn't be responsible for his actions.

Thankfully he didn't have to respond. His stomach grumbled loudly.

"A typical growing boy," Saskia murmured. "Why don't you get dressed and we'll get breakfast. The rest of the pack is already eating. I'll reintroduce you to them while you're eating."

As Heinrich changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he tried to fight the nervousness bubbling up inside him. There was no reason for him to be nervous. He knew the people he was about to be introduced to, he just couldn't remember them.

This morning Heinrich noticed something that he had been too tired to notice last night. Why were his clothes so large? The clothes he had been wearing last night could have easily fit a small whale and the clothes he put on today were too long in length. If they were his, shouldn't they fit?

When he voiced this question to Saskia, her eyes widened. However, she easily found an explanation.

"They're hand-me-downs from your older cousins. You grow so fast, like they did, that it seems pointless to buy a new wardrobe every few weeks. This is more economical."

That would explain why some of the clothes looked so ragged.

Breakfast was an awkward affair. Some of the children in the kitchen stared at Heinrich like he was a complete stranger, as did some of the teens. Heinrich was unsure how to answer some of the questions posed to him and he didn't really know how to start up a conversation. What did he normally talk to them about? He couldn't really use other conversations as a reference point because all conversation seemed to have ceased when he and Saskia entered the kitchen.

After breakfast, Saskia brought Heinrich into the sitting room where he had met her last night.

"We should probably start reminding you of all the things you have forgotten," she said. Heinrich gave a stiff nod. He wasn't really looking forward to this. He assumed that she would show him a bunch of people that he would have to pretend he remembered when he really didn't. For some reason, he doubted that his memories would ever return.

Instead of a photo album, Saskia withdrew a thin stick from her sleeve. Heinrich's eyes sharpened. He didn't know how a stick could be dangerous, but he was immediately wary of it.

"You recognize this?" Saskia ask. Heinrich shook his head. "But it seems familiar?" This time he nodded and the dark-haired woman smiled. "It's a wand. It's the most important tool for us. They are made up of different wands and cores. For example, mine is walnut, twelve inches, and contains dragon heartstring."

"Us?" Heinrich asked carefully.

"Wizards and witches," Saskia said. "Without our wands, the average wizard and witch can do no magic."

"Do I have one?" Heinrich asked.

"You did. It was cedar, nine inches, and contained the heartstring of a dragon," Saskia said quietly. "But I don't know where you placed it and I don't think you would be able to tell us." Heinrich's cheeks flushed red in embarrassment and frustration. He really hoped that losing his memories had been worth it because right now it was quickly becoming annoying when he realized just how much he didn't remember.

The rest of the morning was spent in the sitting room. Saskia had to reteach Heinrich everything there was about magic and the different forms it could take but she could only show him what magic was capable of doing. Her wand wouldn't work with Heinrich, making him unable to do or learn anything through practice. It was much harder to determine what he was able to subconsciously remember or what spells he would use out of habit.

"Fenrir will take you into town sometime during the next few days to get a new wand. I'm not sure if he'll be able to go today, since he's been kept very busy lately."

"What if I find my old wand?" Heinrich asked.

"Then you'll have two wands," Saskia said in a matter of fact tone. "Sometimes it's for the best to have at least two wands, in case you lose one in a duel. It's also better because there are wands that can be picky about the tasks that you ask them to do. Some don't enjoy mundane, housework spells while others don't like to be used for battle."

"Are battles quite common?" Heinrich asked. "It seems pretty peaceful."

"Don't let this place fool you," Saskia warned. "We are in a war right now, and it would benefit you to always be on your guard. Especially here, where we're in more danger than normal. I don't want you taken away from me again."

"Why are we in more danger here?" Heinrich wanted to know. Saskia's brown eyes grew troubled.

"The pack consists of werewolves and the children of werewolves," she said. "The Ministry of Magic doesn't like our existence and they don't like the fact that we are not as easily controlled as normal witches and wizards. When something goes wrong, they are quick to blame us first. They see us as dangers to their world, as monsters."

"Am I a werewolf?" Heinrich asked. Was this persecution the reason why he had chosen to take away his memories? He already knew from what Saskia had said earlier that he had been locked up because she was a werewolf. Was it also because he was one?

"No, not yet," Saskia murmured. "Contrary to popular belief, it's not hereditary. Normally the parents decide for their children to be bitten and become a werewolf or if they don't, the children decide once they become of age."

"You didn't choose for me to be bitten?" Heinrich asked.

"I hoped to give you a better chance at life but I see now that it didn't work out that way. You told me just last year that you wanted to become a werewolf and we had decided for you to be bitten on the full moon after you turned seventeen, when you came of age."

"When is that?" Heinrich asked. "How soon will that be?"

"In a year and a month," Saskia replied. "You still have time to change your mind."

Heinrich wasn't sure how he should take that comment. Did Saskia want him to become a werewolf like her or did she want him not to? What about his father...It was then that he realized that nothing had been said about a father.

"What about my father?" he asked. "Do I have one?"

Saskia had moved to open up the sitting room door. At his question, her hand froze on the doorknob.

"It's complicated," she said, her voice soft. "All you need to know is that we were together for a month, before he realized what I was. Then he left and I didn't find out until after he left that I was pregnant with you. When you were born, I went to look for him but when I found him, he didn't want anything to do with either one of us."

"I'm sorry," Heinrich said softly.

"It's not an uncommon story for our kind," Saskia said. "Like I said, the Ministry of Magic sees us as monsters and therefore, so do most witches and wizards. Our pack is thankful that the Dark Lord granted us this manor to live in. He's one of the few that have been kind to us over the years."

"The Dark Lord?" Heinrich felt like a small child, repeating every other word Saskia said. However, he couldn't help it. In any other circumstances, he would have known who and what she was talking about, but without his memories, he was finding that he often had no idea.

"One of the leaders of the war. He fights for our equality in the magic community, among other things. In past wars, we have not been so lucky. In the past, our kind has often been pushed to the side, as none of the fighting parties wanted to be associated with werewolves. This is one of the first times we've been dealt with fairly and that there has been someone willing to listen to us."

"What makes the Dark Lord so different from others?" Heinrich asked. "Why does he fight for the rights for werewolves?"

"Fenrir tells us it is because he has seen how unfairly we've been treated in the past. The Dark Lord needs as many allies as he can find and the promise of fair treatment and equality is nothing compared to the changes he wants to make in the magic community. Now come on, it's time for lunch."

Heinrich followed, his mind reeling from all the new information he learned. Just who was this Dark Lord and why was he the one defending the werewolves? Waking up only seemed to bring more questions than answers.


	3. Chapter 3

Fenrir Greyback had had better days.

He had been summoned away early in the morning hours, shortly after bringing Harry Potter, now Heinrich Beltz, into his household. Since then, he had been at Malfoy manor, where the Dark Lord had taken up residence. The Dark Lord had summoned most of his Death Eaters back from a raid, expecting updates and good news. Unfortunately, that had not been the case.

The werewolf rubbed his shoulder in irritation. It was commonly believed that the Dark Lord Voldemort preferred using the Cruciatus curse on his followers and enemies alike but the man was much more inventive than that. He easily grew bored with using the same spell, especially when it made him predictable. Instead, there was no telling which curse or jinx he would use on his followers when they disappointed him. The Cruciatus was used only when he was severely annoyed.

This time Fenrir had been struck with only a simple—but powerful—whipping hex. It hadn't drawn any blood this time because the werewolf had requested to speak to the Dark Lord privately after the meeting. Of course, that meeting had been put off by several hours because the man insisted on speaking with the rest of the inner circle as well. Each one had been given missions on top of the ones that they had already been given. Now, it was Fenrir's turn to talk with his lord privately. With a deep breath, he entered the room and knelt.

"What is it?" the Dark Lord Voldemort hissed. Fenrir barely flinched as he felt his mind being invaded, not that it did Voldemort any good. Werewolves had particularly strong Occulemency shields and only the strongest Legillemens could glean anything from them. Fenrir's were stronger than most of his pack's because he had spent years fighting to keep his position as alpha of the pack and there had always been a few werewolves that tried mind magic to gain the upper hand.

"I have in my possession someone that might help us win the war against Dumbledore and the Ministry," Greyback said carefully, making sure not to meet the snake-like man's eyes. "While it is an enemy of yours, this someone doesn't remember anything about their life, including what Dumbledore has taught them. I believe that I can turn them into a loyal follower of yours."

"How can one person help turn the tide of this war?" Voldemort demanded. "Who is this enemy of mine that you have?"

"It would be wise of me to not say yet," Fenrir said quietly. "In case this plan doesn't go the way I hope. That way I would not get my lord's hopes up for nothing. However, I truly believe that this would be a worthwhile endeavor."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with anything else I have given you," Voldemort said carefully. "And as soon as this enemy's changes in allegiance becomes a certainty, you will bring them to me so that I may judge if they are worthy or not to accept my mark."

Fenrir gave a small nod while keeping his head bent. "Whatever my lord wishes," he said quietly. "I will do my best to serve my lord and his wishes and I will do my best to make sure that this plan will help with our efforts to win the war."

After Voldemort's dismissal, Fenrir quickly left then manor, careful to hide his disgust. It had once been an elegant place but now it just smelled of death. He wondered how the Malfoy family was taking it, having to live day in and day out with the Dark Lord in their household. He would be surprised if they lived out the year, despite Lucius's position as the right hand of the Dark Lord. Voldemort was becoming more visibly irritated with the man and if Lucius didn't alter the Dark Lord's opinions soon, he could only assume that Voldemort would be looking for a new second to take Lucius Malfoy's place. Fenrir just needed to make sure that Harry Potter was ready to be presented when that moment occurred. If he brought Harry Potter to his lord, not as a captive, but as someone who believed in the Dark and was willing to pledge loyalty to Voldemort, he was sure that he could easily solidify his position at the Dark Lord's side. With that assurance, he wouldn't have to worry about Voldemort reneging on his agreements to implement some fairer laws for werewolves. None of that registration crap, the werewolves could live as free citizens.

Lunch had just barely started when Fenrir arrived back at the pack's manor. It had been one of the vacation homes for the Lestrange family and Fenrir had delighted on the look on Bellatrix's face when she had been informed that she would need to give it up for him and his pack.

Saskia met him at the door. She greeted him with a nod.

"How'd this morning go?" he asked her.

"Smoothly," she replied. "There were a few unexpected questions but they were all easily answered. I'm not sure how much longer they'll be answered that easily, though. He's a very curious boy."

"Don't I know it," Fenrir muttered. He had heard the stories about Potter's curiosity and how it always drew him into trouble.

"He needs a wand," Saskia said. "If we keep one from him, he'll find it odd."

"Ollivander is out of the question," Fenrir decided immediately. "That man is more trouble than the information he can provide us with. I don't know how he's still alive."

"I'm sure the Dark Lord has his reasons," Saskia said calmly. "I was thinking the local wandmaker in the village of Falmouth. He's a coward and can easily be dealt with using threats."

"I suppose you want me to take him?" Fenrir sneered at the female werewolf. Saskia nodded.

"I have to go through the manor," she said. "Get rid of the rest of the newspapers and the photographs. We can't have him suspecting anything and this would be the best time to do it."

Fenrir sighed. He had expected to be able to pawn the boy off on Saskia and have that be it. Apparently that would not be the case. He wasn't sure that it was the best idea to give his enemy a wand, memories or no memories, but Saskia had a point. Heinrich would find it off if he didn't have a wand when everyone else did. They didn't want the teen asking difficult questions.

The man stalked into the kitchen, where the pack was beginning to eat lunch. They stilled when they spotted him, stopping all conversation and eating. Heinrich stopped a second after the others. He had decided that it was best to do what they did, in hopes that he wouldn't offend anyone.

"Oh, keep eating," Fenrir snarled at his pack before turning to the teen. He lowered his voice. "You and I are going into town after you're finished eating. It's come to my attention that you need some necessities."

Heinrich nodded and quickly resumed eating his sandwich. Fenrir nearly frowned when he noticed the small size of the sandwich. If the boy wanted to survive among the pack, he would need to start eating more. Saskia needed to step up her game to make sure the teen remained healthy and ready to be presented to the Dark Lord at a moment's notice.

Once lunch was over, Fenrir wasted no time bringing Heinrich to the wandmaker in Falmouth. He had had a long morning and wished to be back and relax. His other missions for the Dark Lord were mostly completed and he couldn't do anything further for the next few days.

Apparating was the easiest way to travel, though the most risky. As Heinrich recovered from the brief trip, Fenrir cast a glamour on the teen. It wouldn't do to have someone recognize him for Harry Potter. His plan would be in shambles if that happened. The glamour didn't alter his appearance by much. It just made the scar disappear and changed the color of his eyes and hair. It was an easy glamour that could be held for an hour or so by Fenrir without drawing attention to the spellwork.

Fenrir felt exposed walking through the town to find the wandmaker's small store. The village was terrified of his presence the last time he had come here but there were always risks to walking out in the open, especially in the daylight. He preferred to do most of his traveling by night.

As the pair walked through the town, Heinrich decided that this would be an opportune moment to ask Fenrir some of the questions about pack life that he had been wondering about.

"Are you the leader of the pack?" he asked. It was best to start simple.

"Yes," Fenrir growled. "I am the alpha."

"How does one become alpha?" Heinrich pursued. "Were you chosen by the others?" The older werewolf snorted at the absurdity of the question.

"No," he said. "I originally passed on my abilities to them, so I control and lead them."

"Passed on abilities—by biting?" Fenrir gave a curt nod. "But didn't someone bite you? What happened to them? Why aren't they leader?"

"We had a disagreement and separated," Fenrir stated vaguely. They had separated in a way. Fenrir had left the town where he had been raised and the one who had created him had left the realms of the living.

"What happened?" Heinrich asked. "What was the disagreement about?"

Fenrir stopped him with a glare.

"That doesn't concern you in the slightest," he growled. "Stop asking questions. Just know that I am alpha and that I have the power to control you and your mother." Fenrir could really only control Saskia but he hoped that the threat to her would stop any further questions.

It seemed to work and within minutes, they had located the shop of the local wandmaker. Fenrir's eyes hardened. He had been here a few times in the past year and he wasn't very fond of the wandmaker, the quivering, sniveling idiot that he was. However, he didn't have any other options.

The wand shop was small and dusty. Barely any natural light flooded through the small storefront windows. Most of the wands had been placed in boxes that were stacked haphazardly on shelves that covered the room's walls.

Greyback had covered his nose and mouth almost immediately after entering the room with a cloth that he tied around his face Heinrich was debating about doing the same. The amount of dust in the one room shop made his throat constrict and his nose itch. The green-eyed teen broke into a sneezing fit and when his eyes stopped watering from all the sneezing, there was a pudgy, nervous-looking man in front of them.

"M-Mr. Greyback," the man stuttered, twisting his hands in front of him. "What can I do for you?"

"We need a wand," Fenrir snarled. "Why else would we be here?"

"S-surely you would want a wand of higher quality than mine. M-maybe Ollivander would be better suited for what you are looking for?" The man shrank under Fenrir's glare. Fenrir would have bared his teeth but it would have been pointless since the man couldn't see his mouth.

"For reasons that don't concern you, Ollivander's is not an option. Now, if you want prompt payment, I would suggest that you start working."

The wandmaker jumped and started picking up some boxes that looked like they were about to fall on the floor any second.

"I-is this for you or the boy?" he asked, giving Heinrich a curious glance.

"The boy," Fenrir snarled. "If it was for me, I would have come alone." The stupidity of people easily grated on his nerves.

Heinrich watched the interaction between the two silently, uneasy with the exchange. The wandmaker seemed terrified of Fenrir for reasons unknown to him. He was curious as to why. Yes, Fenrir Greyback seemed somewhat frightening with his wild appearance and large build and yes, his manner was brusque and practical, but was that enough to make others scared of him? Had the two done business in the past that had frightened the smaller man or was the wandmaker making assumptions about Fenrir's nature because Fenrir was a werewolf?

At Fenrir's irritated gesture, Heinrich stepped forward. He gave the wandmaker a cold glare. The sniveling man reminded him of a rat and Heinrich really hated rats. Just the thought of them filled him with anger.

That thought startled him. Why did he hate rats so much? There had to be a story behind that.

"Holly, fourteen inches, unicorn tail hair." The wandmaker presented the wand to Heinrich. Heinrich gripped it lightly but the wand did nothing. With shaking hands, the wandmaker pulled it away and presented a new wand to the teen.

"Elm, ten inches, dragon heartstring."

Nothing.

The system repeated for nearly an hour. With each wand that failed the test, Fenrir grew visibly more irritated. The wandmaker grew more concerned, which quickly became apparent in his increased shaking and nervous glances toward the werewolf. He only had a small number of wands. His selection was not nearly as large as Ollivander's. He had no idea what the werewolf would do if he didn't manage to find a wand for the boy, though he knew that the man didn't appreciate failure. Death would be an easy way out if he failed in this task.

"What's taking so long?" Fenrir eventually snarled, causing the wandmaker to jump and send a few boxes flying across the room. "I thought you were supposed to be an expert. This is just guessing and checking. Any simpleton can do this."

"I-I don't know, M-Mr. Greyback. My wands have never been so troublesome before," the wandmaker stuttered, sweat starting to glisten on his forehead. "I-I think that the wands aren't accepting him because he already has a fully functioning wand." That was the only explanation he could think of.

"His wand is broken so it can't be fully functioning," Fenrir snarled. "Try harder."

Heinrich looked at the older man in surprise. Saskia had believed that his wand was still whole, just lost.

"It's broken?" he asked. "Not lost?"

"Of course it's broken," Fenrir snapped. "It was broken when you were arrested."

"Oh," Heinrich said quietly, not sure how he should respond and stored the tidbit of information to consider later. The wandmaker looked between the two curiously before Fenrir growled at him to get working again.

There were only five wands left in the store at this point. The wandmaker greatly hoped that one of these five were the one. He was rather fond of his life.

"Cedar, twelve inches, contains the tail feather of a hippogriff," the wandmaker said carefully as he passed it over. It was a relatively new wand, just created this morning. Typically he would have preferred for the wand to sit in his shop for a few days unused so the wand and core could reach a harmonious relationship but he didn't have time currently for that to happen.

Heinrich reached for the wand. As soon as it was in his grasp, it felt right to him. The wand did nothing and the wandmaker attempted to pull it away, thinking it was another failure, but Heinrich's grasp on the wand tightened.

"This is it," he said firmly. "This is the one."

Fenrir nearly let out a sigh of relief. Finally. The wandmaker looked troubled.

"It will be reliable as long as you continue to respect it. However, if you stop respecting its abilities, it will start producing unpredictable results and will only become reliable again once you start to respect it again," he explained. "Now shall we talk about prices? Twelve galleons."

Fenrir growled.

"That's five galleons more than normal prices," he informed the wandmaker.

"Well, there are other things to be considered," the wandmaker said. Now that they were talking about prices, he was growing more comfortable. That was something he could control. "It took some time to find the right wand."

"Because you insisted on using a guess and check method," Fenrir snarled but the wandmaker ignored his comment.

"The wand also contains a relatively rare core and is newly made. It would be cheaper if I've had it laying around for some time but I made it just this morning and it's worth more because of that."

Fenrir gestured for Heinrich to go outside. Curious, the teen obeyed but he stopped just outside the door, where he could still hear what was going on inside.

"Take the trace off, and I'll pay you nine galleons. That's two more than you would normally get."

"Twelve galleons or nothing," the wandmaker said. Fenrir's eyes narrowed.

"No wand is worth that much," he stated. "At least not for a normal person. Are you sure you're not charging me more because of what I am or who I am?"

"You have no proof to make those claims!" the wandmaker protested. "I'm trying to run a business and my prices are what I decide they are. The Ministry of Magic will back me up on that!"

"For now," Fenrir said lowly. He stared at the heavy-set man to make sure that he got the hidden meaning in his words. "Now nine galleons, no trace, and I'll make sure that your name doesn't come up when things change. Your business might survive longer that way."

The wandmaker shivered at the implied threats. He really had no choice.

"Fine," he muttered and grudgingly accepted the money.

"I'll be back if I need your services again," Fenrir said. He didn't like dealing with the man but he relished the implications of that statement. The man would lose business if his neighbors found out that he did business with werewolves, especially repeat business. His reputation would be ruined in the Light community because no wandmaker could withstand the bad business that could come with associating with werewolves. No wandmaker other than Ollivander.

As Fenrir stepped outside the shop, he thrust the wand towards Heinrich.

"Don't break it," he growled. "I'm not coming here with you again." Heinrich barely had time to give a small nod before the werewolf had gripped his arm and apparated them away from Falmouth.


	4. Chapter 4

Heinrich had hoped that he would be able to try out some spells with his new wand but that wasn't to be the case. Immediately upon reaching the manor, Fenrir handed him over to Saskia, who insisted on him helping to make dinner. Apparently there was some sort of rotation schedule and it was their turn to prepare the meal.

It was a simple meal but time consuming. There were at least twenty werewolves staying in the manor on any given night and they had to make extras in case of last minute guests. The rest of the afternoon was spent chopping, slicing, sautéing, and boiling. Heinrich tried to convince Saskia to let him use magic, hoping that would move things along but she refused, claiming that it ruined the food and erased some of the taste. Heinrich didn't understand how it could but he didn't bother to ask. He figured it would be best not to annoy the female werewolf as she was using a very sharp knife.

They were just pulling out plates when a boy around Heinrich's age entered the kitchen. For a few minutes he watched Heinrich silently. His stare quickly unnerved the teen. It wasn't openly hostile but it was clear that the other boy wasn't happy with Heinrich for some reason.

The other boy continued to watch Heinrich until Saskia had to run out of the kitchen to get some more potatoes from the cellar. Once the door to the kitchen had shut, the boy spoke.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Cooking dinner?" Heinrich had thought that was obvious.

"I can see that," the boy drawled. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" Heinrich asked, turning to face the other boy. "And what's your name? I don't remember it."

The boy snorted derisively. "Of course you don't," he sneered. "The name's Gunther."

"Nice to meet you," Heinrich replied, extending his hand, but Gunther shook his head and crossed his arms.

"No, it's really not," he snapped. "What are you doing, waltzing in here and taking a spot that's not yours?"

Heinrich blinked in confusion. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he said. "A spot that's not mine?"

"You can't just pretend to be someone you're not," Gunther said, taking a step closer to Heinrich. It was then Heinrich realized that Gunther must have been older than him because the other teen towered over him.

"Gunther, aren't you supposed to be doing yard work?" Saskia's voice was cold as she interrupted the confrontation, a bag of potatoes in her arms. "You better get out there before they notice you missing."

Gunther sneered at Heinrich but left the kitchen. Heinrich watched him go, green eyes troubled and full of confusion.

"Did I miss something?" he asked Saskia, who was silent for a minute. When she finally spoke, it was in a soft voice.

"When you came back from prison, you had changed significantly. Many people commented that it was like you were a new person altogether. You and Gunther used to be friends but I don't think he's quite adjusted to how much you've changed since before you were imprisoned. I'll have Fenrir talk to him. He shouldn't be burdening you with such things, not when you don't have your memories to rely on."

"I didn't realize that it was hard for anyone but me," Heinrich realized. "It never really occurred to me. After all, I was the one that lost my memories, not anyone else."

"It's hard for us because you've changed so much. Not only do we remember the Heinrich that was before but now we have to create new memories with the new version of you. We can't rely on our old memories."

'Especially me,' Saskia thought. She had lost her son to prison and now she had to treat a complete stranger, a past enemy, as her beloved son. She was surprised she had managed as well as she had.

Feeling tears pricking her eyes, Saskia realized that she had to send the boy away before she broke down completely. She might say something revealing if he was still around when her tears came.

"Why don't you go to your room and relax until dinner," she said brusquely. "We're nearly done and I can handle everything else by myself."

"Are you sure?" Heinrich asked. Saskia nodded and pointed toward the door.

"Remember where your room is?" she asked. The teen shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm sure I can figure it out," he said. "The manor really doesn't seem that big."

"Don't accidentally disturb anyone or anything," Saskia warned as he left.

Heinrich didn't really want to go to his room but he also didn't want to get in trouble for wandering around. However, he made sure to take the long way to his room, looking into each open room that he passed. He didn't discover too much about the manor, since most of the rooms he passed had closed doors. Once inside his room, Heinrich sat on his bed. It was a hard mattress but somehow he got the feeling that he was lucky to have a bed at all.

That was odd. Why wouldn't he have had a bed? Had he and Saskia been homeless at some point? After hearing Saskia talk about how the Dark Lord had lent them the manor and after seeing how Fenrir and the wandmaker interacted, it wouldn't really surprise Heinrich. He had a feeling that Saskia hadn't been overstating how werewolves were treated by the general magical community. He wouldn't put it past them to refuse a werewolf a home, even if it was a mother with a child.

Just the thought made Heinrich clench his teeth in anger. It wasn't fair. Why was such blatant discrimination allowed? Werewolves couldn't be the only ones in this type of situation. Surely there were other groups or magical creatures that faced the same type of discrimination. It wouldn't make sense that they were the only group discriminated against.

He was considering poking around his room to see if there were any photos that he could use to try and spark his memory—even though he knew that it was probably futile—when he was called down to dinner. When he entered the kitchen, the first face he saw was Gunther's. The other teen was rubbing his shoulders as if they pained him and sending menacing glares toward Fenrir. The alpha male was eating calmly, seeming not to notice the glares sent his way. Saskia was watching Gunther carefully, especially once Heinrich entered the room. She didn't need the boy to say anything else to Heinrich. He was already treading dangerously as it was.

Dinner was more eventful than breakfast and lunch. It seemed that the pack was getting used to Heinrich's presence again, though Heinrich didn't understand why they would have to get reused to him. How long had it been since he had returned from his imprisonment? How long had he tried to adjust to life back among the pack before he took the potion and erased his memories? From the way they were acting, it didn't seem like he had tried for very long.

Heinrich ate his meal mostly in silence, watching to see how the others interacted. He still wasn't sure what the hierarchy in the manor was like and he didn't want to accidentally make a mistake. By watching the friendly roughhousing among the men especially, he had a feeling that any offense would probably be handled violently. He was sure that was what was causing Gunther's pain. The other boy had clearly done something that another pack member didn't appreciate.

Once dinner was done and it was clear that Heinrich wasn't needed for cleanup, he fled for his room before he could be stopped. He didn't really feel up for interacting with the pack. Saskia watched him go silently and shook her head in Fenrir's direction. She had a feeling that the boy wasn't going to get in any trouble, but she could understand his need for time alone. Truthfully, she didn't feel like pretending that he was her son when he really wasn't.

Coming back to his room, Heinrich began to notice things that he hadn't before—more like the lack of things, really. There was a lack of personal touch in the room. Try as hard as he might, there were no photographs that he could find to see if they would affect his memory. His room contained of a nightstand, a bed, a wardrobe, and a bookshelf that reached from ceiling to floor and contained mostly textbooks. Heinrich read through the titles idly.

Wandering with Werewolves, The Wolf Inside, A Beginner's Guide to Charms, The Dark Arts and their Dangers, Common Protection Spells: The Best Way to Protect Yourself and Others, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, The Most Dangerous List of Jinxes and Curses. Nothing that let him know who he was personally.

Besides them being texts about magic, Heinrich couldn't really find any common theme. Most of the books looked well used. Did that mean he had read them many times or had he bought them secondhand? Looking at the state of his wardrobe and sheets, he figured that he may have very well bought them secondhand.

However, what did strike him as odd was the fact that there were no books about Potions on his bookshelf. How had he found out about a potion that wiped away memories if he didn't have a book on the subject? They were far from town and he doubted that he had the money to buy a potion from a shop. So how did he get the potion?

Stepping away from the bookshelf, Heinrich noticed that the bookshelf was set a few inches away from the wall. Just far enough for a thin book to be set behind it.

Green eyes narrowed, the teen wedged his hand behind the bookshelf and moved it around. Sure enough, his hand came into contact with a couple of books. Curious, he withdrew them.

The covers were blank and there was no title. They almost looked like notebooks to him. Were they journals? There was only one way to find out.

Heinrich opened the first book, hoping that the book wasn't cursed. Saskia had mentioned cursed books in passing this morning but hadn't said anything else.

Much to his dismay, the journal-like book was blank. Heinrich looked in the second one that he grabbed, also to find it blank. What was the use in hiding the books if they were empty?

As he stared at the pages, wondering what to do now, words slowly revealed themselves on the page. So there was a time delay…Heinrich didn't know that such a thing was possible. However, that wasn't going to stop him from reading the journals. The first entry started on December 26, 1991. That made Heinrich pause. Did he even know what year it was?

It didn't matter right now. Heinrich could ask later, though he was sure that the question would earn him an odd look or two. The green-eyed teen began reading.

Although he didn't really remember the events that he was reading about, the words were painted so vividly that Heinrich almost felt like he was actually there. As he continued to read, the description of events began to stick in his mind. He knew that they weren't actually memories but they were close enough. He was thankful that he had such a way with words, since they were the closest thing he had to memories currently.

It didn't escape his notice that there was no shortage of events that contained discrimination against Saskia or Heinrich himself. There were numerous references to being removed from restaurants, sometimes forcefully, or being refused service. Rents were increased for no reason other than the landlord felt like it and there were people that refused to touch either one of them. There were countless slurs, insults, and innuendos, all which made Heinrich's blood boil in anger.

Heinrich stayed awake throughout the night, reading the journals. The sun's rays were just beginning to touch the sky when his green eyes drooped closed and he fell asleep, sitting up against his pillows, his head dropping down to his chest.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore wasn't sure what to expect when he went into the Dursley home. He had been meaning to come closer to Harry's birthday to discuss Sirius's will with him once the Ministry was done checking it over, but then he had gotten word from Mrs. Figg that she hadn't seen the boy in the morning when he normally did the Dursley's gardening. He had been out there every morning since the summer had begun and for him to miss a day was considered odd. To make things even stranger, when she had asked Petunia Dursley, the woman had claimed not to see her despised nephew since he had gone to bed the night before. The Muggle woman was under the impression that he had run away during the middle of the night but surely, Dumbledore thought, Harry wouldn't be that reckless.

The Dursley family was out for the night—courtesy of a distraction plan implemented by the Order of the Phoenix—and Dumbledore and a few other Order members were able to enter the house uncontested. Albus went immediately up to the boy's room. That was where he had last been seen and he had a feeling that any items left behind would reveal what had happened the night before. Severus Snape followed him silently. He was supposed to go to a Death Eater meeting later that night and Albus figured that the news of checking out the Dursley home in hopes of finding the missing Potter boy would satisfy the Dark Lord for some time.

The room seem undisturbed, no sign of a struggle. That was a good sign at least. That meant Death Eaters hadn't broken through the wards and captured the boy. If that had been the case, he suspected Harry would no longer be alive and Voldemort would be announcing the news as soon as the boy was dead.

Harry's wand lay on the nightstand and his trunk was at the foot of the bed. The sight of the wand concerned Albus. No wizard or witch, especially Harry, would forget his wand. Not with Tom Riddle walking this earth.

So, if there was no sign of a struggle and Harry's wand was separated from its owner, what had happened?

"Albus," Severus said quietly. He held out a closed hand and opened it to show the headmaster what he had found.

A potions vial. Quite curious.

"Where did you find this?" Albus asked quietly.

"On the bed, by the pillow," the Potions Master said just as quiet.

"Any ideas what was inside of it?" Severus shook his head at the question. There was only a small drop left inside the vial. He could figure out what it was given a few days of testing but he couldn't determine the contents based on smell and sight alone. Not with that small dosage.

Albus's blue eyes examined the room again. This time he spotted a small piece of paper on the floor, hidden by the shadows of the bed. With a few creaks and aches, he bent down to pick it up.

_For when the pain gets to be too much._

Blue eyes narrowed. What did that mean? He didn't like this mystery. Had the boy committed suicide, distraught over losing his godfather? Albus Dumbledore didn't think things had gotten that bad. However, suicide wouldn't explain the lack of a body. But what else could have possibly happened? The boy couldn't have disappeared without a trace.

"Do you want me to determine the vial's contents?" Severus asked carefully. Albus didn't need to think twice. He needed to get to the bottom of this mystery.

"Yes," he said slowly. "We should find out. Maybe that will get us one step closer to finding out what happened last night."

There was only one thing Albus knew for sure. He didn't look forward to telling the rest of the Order of the Phoenix that he had no idea what had happened to Harry Potter.

"Be careful what you tell Voldemort tonight," he warned his companion. "We can't allow him to find Harry before we do."

Severus nodded. He would try his best. After all, he had promised to protect the boy and that meant he wasn't going to allow him to fall into the hands of a madman.

* * *

A few hours later, Severus Snape apparated to Malfoy Manor. Already he was running through his mind what he was going to tell Lord Voldemort and what he felt should be left out. He couldn't leave anything too major out, since the man would find out anyways but he could always twist his words to have more than one meaning. He had done it so many times in the past that it was almost a habit now.

Severus was neither the first nor the last to arrive. He didn't really understand why he had been summoned again when he had been here earlier in the day. Were two meetings really necessary?

According to his Lord Voldemort, they were. Still, the man could demand that they do the waltz and no Death Eater would protest in fear of losing his life.

Severus kept aware of what was being said throughout the meeting. He couldn't afford to tune out at these meetings like he could at the Order's meetings. The slightest lapse in concentration would open him up to punishment or worse, open up his mind for Voldemort to see everything.

Not much was said but that wasn't too surprising, considering that they had met this morning. The amount of punishments were high. The Dark Lord wasn't happy with the lack of progress though Severus didn't dare mention that the tasks the madman had given his followers could hardly be completed in less than twenty four hours. Many of them couldn't be completed within a week.

"Severus, do you have news for me?"

The Potions master knew better than to meet those cold red eyes. With his head down in a seemingly humble bow, he reported.

"I was summoned to the house of Potter's relatives earlier tonight by the Order. There were a few oddities that Dumbledore felt needed to be investigated."

"And what did the old man find?" Voldemort hissed.

"Nothing, my lord. The only thing out of the ordinary was that Harry Potter wasn't inside the house."

"The boy is missing?" Voldemort asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"The Order currently does not know of his whereabouts but the boy has been known to wander about the neighborhood. It's probably nothing, just some wizards and witches with too much time on their hands and nothing better to do than to check up on some wayward teenage boy."

Severus made sure that his comments were dripping with disdain. It wasn't hard to do, since it was nearly true. The Order of the Phoenix had made little progress over the summer, unable to recruit as many wizards and witches that they would have liked.

"So you don't think this is any cause for concern or celebration?"

"Potter will show up like he always does," Severus sneered. "It is no matter to me where that is, though I will let my lord know when the boy does return and where he was found, unless my lord finds him first. I'm sure that the boy will reappear in a matter of days."

"Well, while he's out of the Order's hands, let's try and find him, shall we?"

With those words, Lord Voldemort promptly started firing off orders. He would have Death Eaters looking through the night for the boy, though he doubted that they would find him. Incompetent, the lot of them.

Red eyes trailed over to Fenrir Greyback, who was standing at the end of the line of Inner Circle members. Harry Potter had disappeared and now the werewolf had an old enemy of his inside his manor, where he was teaching him to be loyal to the Dark.

Coincidence? Probably not. However, Lord Voldemort didn't think the werewolf was clever enough to pull this plan off.

Among the Dark Lord's orders was an order to leak the information to the Daily Prophet. The news of the missing Boy-Who-Lived would send the community into an uproar, making things much more difficult for Albus Dumbledore. The man would not only have to worry about finding the boy but he would also need to worry about calming the community.

* * *

The next morning, when the Daily Prophet began arriving at every wizarding household across Great Britain, everyone was met with a worrying headline.

_Where is the Boy-Who-Lived?_

Albus sighed as soon as he read the headline, already anticipating the number of howlers he would be receiving. The Weasley family, including a one Hermione Granger, was awakened with a loud screech of horror as the owl left the Burrow.

Fenrir Greyback saw the headline and the photo of Harry Potter underneath it and promptly burned it, before casting a ward on the manor preventing all Ministry owls from getting through without first going to his study. He had to make sure that the boy didn't see the paper. Soon it would be time to make his move and he wasn't going to let anything or anyone ruin it.


	5. Chapter 5

Saskia rapped on Heinrich's door lightly before pushing it open. It was nearly seven in the morning and they needed to get to work.

"Heinrich?" she said, approaching the boy. Noting the way he was sprawled over the bed, he looked like he had spent the night in a very uncomfortable position. Her brown eyes narrowed upon seeing the book lying across his chest but before she could reach over and pick it up, green eyes were blinking open.

"Is it time to get up?" he asked. Saskia nodded.

"Stayed up late reading?" she asked. Heinrich nodded.

"I found some of my old journals," he explained. "I figured that they would help remind me of things."

"You know they won't bring back your memories, right?" Saskia asked carefully. "Not if you took a potion."

The teen sighed. "I know. But even just a reminder of events that happened before are better than nothing."

Saskia couldn't protest. She wasn't really worried about the boy reading her son's old journals. Truthfully, that would make it easier on her since he wouldn't be asking so many questions and she knew that the journals didn't contain any pictures or words that would tip the boy off to the fact that something was wrong. She, like any mother, had discovered the journals a few years ago and regularly read the words inside. That was the only thing that had kept her sane through her son's imprisonment.

"Is it breakfast time?" Heinrich asked. Saskia nodded.

"And after breakfast is over, I can start teaching you magic. Fenrir has let you and me off of the chores roster until you've mastered the basic spells. In today's world it's better to be prepared and know how to defend yourself than to know household cleaning charms."

"You make it sound like we're at war," Heinrich murmured. Saskia frowned.

"We are," she said. "Not just the werewolf community but the magical community as a whole."

"Are wars common?" Heinrich asked. "I made comments a few times about being born during a war."

"There was a war a few years ago between the magical communities as a whole," Saskia confirmed. "However, the werewolf community is constantly at war against magical society as a whole and will be until we are treated as equally as everyone else."

"It's ridiculous with how much they can get away with," Heinrich growled. "Registration? Forced sterilization? Are they really that ignorant? You've said that being a werewolf isn't hereditary."

"People will believe what they want to believe," Saskia sighed. "And nothing we say will convince them otherwise. They'll just think that we're trying to save our own skins."

"Which we should have the right to do!" Heinrich shouted, hands clenching into fists. He took a deep breath in order to help stop the shaking. Saskia couldn't help but allow a small, bitter smile to creep onto her lips. Things were moving much faster than expected, if his passion and anger was anything to go by. The journals had helped with that.

"Remember that," she said. "Remember this anger at the injustice of it all. Now let's go get some breakfast and then I can teach you some charms and spells."

Learning magic was much harder than it seemed. Heinrich had the assumption that he would have to say the spells and his wand would do all the work. That was not the case. He had to actually think about what he was trying to accomplish and then request his wand to perform the task with the appropriate words. He learned quickly that his wand would refuse to work if he forced his wishes onto it. Heinrich supposed that was what the wandmaker had meant when he told Heinrich about respecting the wand.

Saskia was a patient teacher, but she wasn't the only teacher Heinrich had after the first few sessions. Soon she was bringing in other werewolves that had some free time and were staying at the manor. She said it was because they could teach him spells that she couldn't perform or didn't know.

All Heinrich knew was that it created some haphazard classes. There was really no schedule or lesson plan to use. One morning he would start working his way through a beginner book and that afternoon, he was given a new book to work out of in a completely different subject. Heinrich hadn't known that so many subjects of magic existed. He was taught the difference between charms and curses and spells, as well as the subjects of transfiguration. He was learning about all sorts of magical creatures, some that he couldn't believe actually existed. Just the book descriptions of some of them were absurd.

The one thing that Heinrich did learn every day was dueling. Saskia had no problem thrusting him into a spur of the moment duel with one of the other children that she could find. Some of the children weren't supposed to use magic, Heinrich learned, but they seemed to know more spells than him.

The one subject Heinrich wasn't allowed near was Potions. He assumed that it was because he had made a potion that had taken away his memories and they didn't want him to recreate the potion. Not that he ever would. He had learned his lesson. As good idea as it sounded, taking away your own memories was no walk in the park.

"Try it again," a male werewolf barked at Heinrich. The teen thought his name was Aldrich. "Impose your will."

Heinrich furrowed his brow and stared at his target again.

"Imperio," he muttered, pointing his wand at the cat.

"Now try and get it to walk to the other side of the room."

Heinrich obeyed the instructions and silently ordered the cat to get up and walk across the room. The feline stirred and sat up, more progress than he had made earlier. Pressing his will onto the creature, he actually caused it to get to his feet.

Then the door slammed and his concentration broke. The cat sat back down again and yawned.

"It's not working," he snarled. "The cat doesn't want to do anything."

"That's because cats are lazy, contrary creatures," Aldrich said. "You handled a dog easily enough. If you can control a cat, it's not much further to controlling a child and then an adult."

"Why do I need to learn how to control people?" Heinrich asked. "Doesn't that seem a bit invasive?"

"You need to learn to control someone else, because in a fight it will prevent them from attacking you and you can use them to attack their allies insetad. Just imagine, having someone fight against their own comrades. That way you wouldn't get any blood on your own hands."

"But I'm not a mindless killer," Heinrich protested, green eyes wide.

"So you'd let someone cast the curse on your body and allow them to order you to kill yourself?" Aldrich asked. Heinrich grimaced.

"Of course not," he muttered.

"Then try again," Aldrich ordered. With a sigh, Heinrich did as he was told. Gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow, he cast the spell on the feline again and didn't stop repeating his orders until the cat was on the other side of the room.

"Well done," Aldrich said, breaking his concentration. Once Heinrich's control was gone, the feline fled the room and the manor, not liking the smell of canine that was everywhere.

Later that afternoon, Heinrich wandered throughout the halls of the manor. He was slowly making his way through the journals and with their help, everything was beginning to feel more normal. There were still a lot of things that felt unfamiliar and Heinrich often felt like he didn't quite belong in the manor but it was nothing compared to how lost he had felt when he first arrived a few weeks ago. He assumed that it was due to his imprisonment. The lost time had prevented him from getting fully comfortable in the manor, he believed. From what Saskia had said, they had only lived in the manor for less than a year.

It may have also been due to the fact that he wasn't a werewolf. Many of the underage children were not but they still seemed to have a better understanding of the hierarchy than what he could pick up on.

Shouldn't he have known this stuff? Shouldn't he at least subconsciously remember something?

But he didn't. It was confusing for the teen. He knew he hated not knowing.

* * *

Fenrir growled as he read that morning's headlines on the Daily Prophet. At this point, he was considering cancelling his subscription to the paper, finding it utterly useless. These past few weeks had been all about the missing Boy-Who-Lived, which meant that he couldn't relay any news to the rest of his pack. He knew they were getting frustrated with the lack of information.

The wizarding community was still in an uproar over the fact that Harry Potter was still missing. Fenrir had thought it would die down after a week or so but it seemed to be getting worse.

His eyes wandered over to the calendar on his desk. Tomorrow was the full moon. He couldn't believe that it was July already.

He had to make arrangements for the boy. He couldn't keep him with the rest of the pack, even the ones that hadn't been bitten yet. He couldn't risk any information getting by him and ruining his plans.

No, the boy was better being isolated for a few nights. Fenrir would make arrangements so he wouldn't be able to wander away or be discovered by anyone, Death Eater or Order member.

The werewolf alpha rubbed his eyes. He hoped the boy was ready soon. He couldn't wait to get Harry Potter out of the manor. The day when the boy was no longer his responsibility would be a glorious day indeed.

* * *

The next day Fenrir could see Saskia getting worried. No doubt she could feel the full moon approaching in her bones, like all werewolves did. The day of the full moon brought back the old pains that came along with transforming.

Saskia made sure to keep Heinrich away from the werewolves that would transform that night, knowing that they were a bit touchier the day of the first full moon. She often shot Fenrir nervous looks, clearly wondering if he had made arrangements for the teen. Normally the children that didn't transform were sent away to visit other relatives and friends that hadn't abandoned the werewolves when they discovered what they were. Heinrich and Saskia had no relatives or family. It made things easier, because Saskia didn't have to explain the situation to outsiders but at the same time, she couldn't send the teen away with one of the other children because he would quickly be recognized as Harry Potter.

If Fenrir hadn't done something by dinnertime, Saskia would have to make last minute arrangements, something she sorely didn't want to do.

Thankfully the man ordered for Heinrich to pack a weekend bag after lunch was finished. So he had made plans.

The teen looked confused but he didn't ask any questions—a rarity nowadays. As he grew more comfortable in the manor, the number of questions had increased. Once his weekend bag was packed, Saskia witnessed them apparating away. She gave a sigh of relief once they were gone. She didn't want a stranger to witness the pack's transformation.

"Where are we going?" Heinrich asked as he followed Fenrir. The man had been evading his questions since lunchtime. Clearly something was planned but Heinrich had no idea what was happening.

They had apparated to the outskirts of a small town near a wooded area. There were only a handful of old style houses, almost like cottages.

"You'll need to spend the next few days away from the manor," Fenrir said. "And you need to be inside before night falls."

"Why?" Heinrich asked. Fenrir Greyback sighed. He would have thought that it would have been obvious. The boy was aware that he was living among werewolves, after all.

"It's the full moon, boy," he explained. "Werewolves transform during the full moon, remember, and it wouldn't be safe for you. Unless you want to become a werewolf now but I can't guarantee that you won't actually be ripped to shreds. That's always a risk after all."

Heinrich's eyes widened but he understood. He wasn't ready to be bitten and he was sure that he should be thankful that measures were being taken to prevent that from happening.

"Will I be alone the whole time?" he asked instead. "Where are the other non-werewolves staying?"

"Arrangements have been made for them as well," Fenrir grumbled. "You're old enough to stay on your own. There's food and water and books for you to study while you remain here. As long as you don't go outside and wander off, you'll be fine."

He doubted the boy would listen to him but he had already implemented some safeguards that he had worked on throughout the night. The boy wouldn't be able to leave the house once he was inside until Fenrir or Saskia fetched him. No one, save for Lord Voldemort or Albus Dumbledore would be able to get out of that house with the number of wards Fenrir had placed on it. He had also ensured that the house was unplottable and no locator spells could trace it. Fenrir wouldn't risk Death Eaters or Order members finding the boy. He had also put a few repelling charms on the house, so no werewolf could approach it—at least not while they were in their wolf form.

The house Heinrich would be staying in was on the outskirts of town, well away from the others. It was a small wooden cottage that looked like it hadn't been used in a few years. In truth it hadn't been used since Fenrir had a member of his pack purchase it. The windows had been magically altered to look like no one was inside, even when the lights were on. The villagers wouldn't have any clue that someone was inside the house, provided that they didn't see them enter it.

Fenrir waited for Heinrich to look around for a few minutes, taking care to remain outside the house. He didn't need to see the inside, already knowing that it was nothing special. There was a stocked kitchen, a bathroom with a small shower and water closet, and a living area with a twin sized bed pushed against the wall. There was also a small table and a few bookcases in the living area, the bookcases already stocked with the books the teen was supposed to go over in the next few days.

"Satisfactory?" Fenrir sneered, not really caring about the answer. Heinrich nodded. He knew that this was more than necessary, especially considering that it was only for a few days. In truth, he would have been just as happy with a tiny motel room.

"Don't destroy anything beyond repair," Fenrir growled. "If you do break something, learn the spell to repair it. I won't pay for anything new." With those words he closed the door, effectively sealing the boy inside until he came back after the full moon had passed.

Heinrich looked around. It was still early in the afternoon, so he wasn't hungry yet. However, he didn't feel like starting to go through the books and learn more spells immediately. That morning's dueling session had tired him out. They had started working on the more dangerous, offensive spells now that Heinrich had mastered the stronger forms of basic shield spells and protection charms.

Heinrich also wanted to feel settled before he started learning anything new. This cabin felt foreign to him. Maybe unpacking would make things feel more home-like, even though Heinrich had barely brought anything with him.

The green-eyed teen started unpacking the small satchel he had set by the bed. There was no place to put his clothes, so he set them on an empty bookshelf. His toiletries went into the bathroom and he set the journals next to the books that he was meant to read. The process took less than five minutes.

After, Heinrich settled on organizing the books by the order in which he would go through him. Judging by how often he was dueling other pack members, he decided that the book on basic dueling techniques would be one of the first to read. Books on history of magic and the theory behind spells and charms were at the bottom of the pile. He was sure that it was important but he found the books boring to read.

Still feeling somewhat restless, Heinrich decided to peek outside. Maybe he could make time pass faster if he could find a villager to talk to.

The teen strode over to the door and turned the knob. The door didn't budge. Frowning, he turned the knob harder and pushed. Still nothing.

Feeling suspicious, Heinrich attempted to open the windows. They wouldn't open as well. He was basically locked inside the house.

There was a low growling sound and it took a few heartbeats for the teen to realize that he was making the noise. Heinrich shook his head. It was clear that he lived among werewolves.

Clearly Fenrir didn't trust him to not wander off. Why else would the werewolf lock Heinrich inside? Heinrich's hands clenched into fists. He really wished the older male was here so he could yell at him. Heinrich could be trusted. He wasn't going to disappear and come back with no memories again! He had already learned that lesson.

The dark-haired teen stalked around the small living area, looking for something to throw. Unfortunately, nothing looked breakable (not even the dishes in the kitchen since they were made of wood) and he didn't want to throw a book and mess up his organization system. Instead, he had to settle for throwing his pillow against the wall and punching it a few times.

Once the brief spurt of anger had passed, Heinrich settled on his bed and grabbed the journal he had been in the process of reading. He was on the year 1994 and wanted to finish the journals before he started reading anything else.

He had noticed that as the years went on, the mentions of becoming a werewolf like Saskia had become more and more frequent. There were multiple reasons. Heinrich had been under the belief that he wouldn't be fully accepted by the pack until he was a werewolf like them. He had also been under the belief that becoming a werewolf was the only way to make something of himself and rise up in the world.

It didn't make sense to Heinrich now. Wouldn't it be better to remain unbitten and leave the pack for a few years to gain a political position in the Ministry of Magic? That way he wouldn't have to deal with the prejudices that the rest of them faced and once he gained a stable enough position in the political world, he could begin to fight for werewolf rights. Surely that made more sense than becoming a werewolf and just biting every magical person that he came across.

Heinrich had finished the journals before the night was over. Unlike the earlier journals, he no longer had to read daily entries. Apparently he had grown lax in keeping up with his journals as he got older and by the time he had turned fifteen, he only recorded the major events. Quite frequently there were mentions to not only wanting to become a werewolf, but also to becoming a Death Eater or a follower of the Dark Lord. However, the man had deemed him to be too young and he had to wait for an opportunity to prove his worth.

The last entry was written on June 18, 1996. There were only a few short sentences written.

_Going to the Ministry of Magic tonight. This may be my opportunity to prove to the Dark Lord that I am worthy of being a Death Eater, especially if I can capture and hand Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived over to him by the end of the night. If I can succeed in this mission, I can bring my pack to great glory._


	6. Chapter 6

Heinrich flipped the last blank pages of the journal in confusion. It seemed like such an odd place to stop. However, this was probably the time when Heinrich was imprisoned. If he had broken into the Ministry or had failed at whatever he had attempted to do, it would be very likely that he would be imprisoned.

Still…the dates didn't seem quite right. June 18? It was currently July 5 and Heinrich had been found on June 27. He would have been imprisoned for less than a week and home for only a few days before taking the potion. However, according to Saskia, he had been a changed person after his imprisonment. Had things truly been that bad for him that he had resorted to desperate measures so soon after returning home?

Heinrich rubbed his eyes. It was late and he couldn't help but think he might be missing something obvious because he was so tired. He would take a look again tomorrow.

Heinrich had been locked inside the house for two nights. In one of his books he had found a time keeping charm. It had fallen out of use once calendars and clocks had become more common to mark the days and hours because it relied on the lunar calendar. However, Heinrich figured that it would be useful to keep track of how full the moon was. He didn't want to be caught unaware like he had this month.

He had discovered the charm on his first full day in the cottage, after the first night of the full moon had passed. When he woke up after the second night and was told by the charm that the moon had gone from full to waxing, he couldn't help the small grin that crept onto his face. It had only been a little over twenty-four hours but he would get to see other people soon. It had surprised him how quickly he had started to miss Saskia and the rest of the pack. He hadn't realized how much he had relied on their company.

Heinrich made an early breakfast and started to clean up the cottage. He didn't know when he was being picked up but he didn't want to leave dirty dishes and an unmade bed behind. He also wanted to be ready to go at a moment's notice, so he could work on finishing the books he was supposed to read without having to worry about packing.

* * *

It was slightly after ten in the morning when Fenrir and Saskia apparated to the edges of the village. Most of the pack, especially the younger werewolves and the ones that were newly bitten, were sleeping in to recover from the two nights of the full moon. Fenrir hadn't had the chance to do the same, since he had been summoned to an inner circle meeting. Greyback was just satisfied that he hadn't been summoned a few hours earlier, when it was still dark out. If he was ever summoned while transformed, he would gladly bite and kill everyone in the room, including Lord Voldemort. That would be the only form of justice and compensation that he would accept for that amount of humiliation and insult. The punishment curses were nothing compared to that.

It was only after the meeting that Fenrir had the time to approach Saskia about bringing the boy back to the manor. Saskia gasped as the cottage came into sight. Fenrir glanced at her in confusion, wondering what had brought on that sort of reaction. It was a cottage, not Azkaban. Then his nose caught the scent of smoke in the air. His eyes narrowed when he spotted flames sprouting up from the side of the cottage closest to the wooded area and he managed to catch a glimpse of a hooded figure fleeing the scene.

Saskia rushed toward the small cottage. It was largely wood and judging by the size and age, it would be engulfed in flames in less than a minute.

Fenrir took the opportunity to chase after the fleeing figure. He needed to know how they had discovered the boy and why they were trying to kill him. What side were they on? Clearly not Albus Dumbledore's side since they were trying to kill the boy instead of rescue him. Unless it was a diversion…

The werewolf growled and increased his speed but it was futile. The figure had escaped. It had gotten a head start and the smoke filling the air made it hard to pick up a scent trail. Fenrir could look for physical trails left by hands and feet but that would take some time. However, the quickness of the figure allowed him to assume one very important thing.

Another werewolf had set the fire.

When Fenrir came back to the cottage, Saskia had managed to pull the teen out of the burning house. The teen was clutching his satchel and a number of books that he had apparently grabbed. His green eyes were wide and frightened, his hands shaking. Apparently he hadn't believed that he would be able to get out.

"The door wouldn't open," he was explaining. "I was trying but it wouldn't open."

Saskia sent a look at Fenrir, who looked unapologetic. He couldn't have taken into account a fire occurring. He heard stories from Severus Snape about the boy seeming to carry around bad luck but he hadn't actually taken any of those stories seriously. Besides, this was probably just a fluke, not a sign of the boy's perpetual bad luck.

"Get him back to the manor," Fenrir ordered Saskia. "I need to stay here and find out what happened."

The dark-haired woman nodded and wasted no time apparating away. Heinrich barely held in the contents of his stomach, not having expected the sudden apparation.

"Was the fire an accident?" he asked when his head had stopped spinning and he had stopped coughing. The smoke was still affecting his lungs.

"We don't know yet, but it's doubtful," Saskia said, her voice revealing nothing although her thoughts were racing. "There were supposed to be anti-fire charms on the house but someone must have taken them down."

"I didn't," Heinrich said quickly. He didn't want to implicate himself. Saskia sighed at his quick denial.

"No one's thinking that," she said, frowning at what Heinrich was implying. "The charms would have to be taken off from the outside of the house."

"Sorry," the teen apologized. "I guess…I guess I'm just used to everyone blaming me once things start going wrong."

Saskia's dark eyes threw the teen a sharp look. That was impossible. He couldn't be remembering things. The potion would prevent him from ever getting his memories back. Unless it hadn't been a potion. If that was the case, then they had a new slew of problems to worry about.

"Because I'm the son of a werewolf," Heinrich clarified, misreading her look and gestured to the journals in his satchel. "Apparently that means I'm not the most trustworthy person around."

Saskia nearly sighed in relief.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that any longer," she said. "You'll remain with the pack from now on, with the exception of the full moons."

"But what about the Death Eaters?" Heinrich asked. "I wanted to become one, to prove that werewolves are just as good as any other wizard or witch."

"Do you still want to become a Death Eater?" Saskia asked. If that was the case, she would have no choice but to tell Fenrir and the boy would probably taken away. Her heart hurt at the thought. She had already lost one son to Death Eaters. Did she have to lose this boy too? This was who was filling her son's position? It had been easier than she had expected to use the teen to fill her son's place. Now she didn't want to give him up. Seeing an empty space would hurt more than seeing a stranger.

"Not right now," she heard the teen saying, which broke her out of her thoughts. "But soon. Maybe once I become more settled."

"Or now maybe is the best time," a voice said from behind them. It was Aldrich, Heinrich's most common instructor after Saskia. "Once you get settled and into a routine, it may be harder to leave behind what you know for something else."

Heinrich stared at the man. He looked slightly worse for wear. Scratches and bruises marred his arms and face and he was holding his body as if it pained him to be up and moving. Somehow, it didn't surprise him. Looking over at Saskia, he realized that she looked almost the same, but with burns and singe marks on her clothes from the fire. He had barely noticed them before. He assumed that he was used to seeing them that he had stopped noticing them.

"We'll talk about it later," Saskia said in a firm tone. Heinrich was surprised to see that she was openly glaring at Aldrich, as if warning him to stay away. The man merely snorted and stalked away, muttering to himself under his breath. Saskia began directing Heinrich toward his room.

"I wouldn't be too loud for a few hours," she said to him. "Most of the pack is still asleep. It's easier for our wounds to heal when we sleep off the transformation."

"Are you going back to bed?" Heinrich nodded. Saskia nodded. She wasn't quite sure that she would sleep but she didn't want to be disturbed for a few hours. "Can I ask a question first?"

"What?" Saskia's voice came out harsher than intended.

"It was about when I was locked away," Heinrich said. "It couldn't have been more than a week and I couldn't have been back for more than a few days before doing whatever it is I did to my memories. How could things have gotten so bad in such a short period of time?"

Crap. This was the type of question that Saskia hoped the boy would never ask.

"Look up dementors in one of your books on magical creatures," she said. "So many bad things had happened in your life before then that their effect on you was amplified. Things could definitely become that bad for you in that amount of time, especially when being surrounded by dozens of those creatures. As for you taking your memories so soon after being back…well, you always were a bit on the reckless side. You never liked waiting once you made a decision."

With that, Saskia walked away. Heinrich sighed as he watched his mother disappear down the hallway. It looked like he had more research to do. He felt that something was off about her answer but he didn't know why. It didn't seem like she was lying to him but it felt like she was leaving something out.

* * *

Fenrir didn't arrive back at the manor until later that night. He had searched the area but he had found nothing. Apparently soon after he had stopped chasing after the cloaked figure, they had apparated away. That meant they were of age and capable of apparating. However, the fire had been set using muggle methods once the anti-fire charms had been removed. Why would a wizard or witch start a fire using muggle methods when they could start a much stronger fire with their wand?

There were too many questions that didn't have answers.

Fenrir Greyback was making his way back to his room when Aldrich stopped him.

"It's about the boy," the man said quietly.

"What now?" Fenrir snapped. He didn't want to deal with any more trouble the boy had caused.

"He's starting to make comments about wanting to join the Death Eaters," Aldrich explained. "I don't think it will be long before he's ready to be brought before the Dark Lord." Aldrich, as Fenrir's second in command, he was the only other werewolf besides Saskia that knew the full extent of Fenrir's plans for the Boy-Who-Lived.

That was the best news Fenrir had heard all day. That meant that the boy would be out of his hair sooner than expected.

"Keep an eye on him then," Fenrir growled. "And come to me when you think he's ready. I'm not quite sure if I would trust Saskia to do so."

"She did seem quite reluctant to encourage this goal of the boy's," Aldrich agreed. "You might want to remind her that he's just a pawn and not truly her son. Speaking of which, I suppose you have plans for if the real Heinrich is released from Azkaban."

Fenrir didn't but he had reasons for not having plans.

"Not really. I doubt that the real Heinrich is ever coming back."

"But he was found in the entry way of the Ministry," Aldrich said. "Breaking into that part is worth only a few weeks in Azkaban."

"Provided the boy survives that," Fenrir pointed out. "But knowing how rash he could be, he'll have made an escape attempt and would be locked away in one of the more heavily guarded parts. The boy was never physically strong, which is why we put off the transformation for so long."

"So you think he'll die before he's released." It was a statement, not a question.

Fenrir gave his second a feral grin.

"I'm sure of it."

* * *

The next day Heinrich's lessons resumed. He had finished his readings the day before and now it was time to put what he had learned into practice. He hadn't been able to practice at the cabin since most of the spells in the books needed another person or animal to perform the spell on.

Much to Saskia's dismay, Aldrich had started to take over the lessons. He pushed the boy to learn darker spells, where Saskia had tried to teach him a balance between the dark and light. She knew that there was no harm in using dark spells as long as one used an equal amount of light spells. There would be no effects on the mind or soul.

However, not everyone believed this. They used dark spells constantly and thought that the insanity was just a sign of those unable to handle the magic. Saskia's protests went unheard. Fenrir had been no help. In fact, he even encouraged Saskia to remain on the sidelines, restoring her to the chores roster and taking Aldrich off of it. That meant that the second had more time to spend with the boy instead of Saskia.

That didn't stop the female werewolf. Instead, she made sure to finish the chores as quickly as she could and to hold private lessons with Heinrich later on in the night, when most were asleep. The boy didn't sleep much, which worked to her favor.

"Why is everyone pushing me so hard?" Heinrich wanted to know one night during their late night sessions. "Between you and Aldrich, I never seem to get a break."

Saskia sighed.

"I know," she said. "It's not your fault. Aldrich and I have been having disagreements about how to handle your training and Fenrir supports Aldrich's position more than mine."

"But you're my mother," Heinrich protested. "You're more concerned with what's best for me than Aldrich could ever be."

Saskia felt a surge of pride at his words.

"I never said that Fenrir was concerned with your best interests," she said. "He's not concerned with anyone's best interests than his own and he has plans for you, plans that are in line with those interests. Unfortunately, your best interests don't match his best interests."

Heinrich growled and flicked his wand, finally achieving the spell that he had been working all night to achieve. Saskia's pride turned into smugness. Aldrich hadn't been able to teach him that particular spell. The second didn't know how to tap into Heinrich's anger and passion like she could.

The weeks passed quickly for everyone. Heinrich soon became adjusted to the increased intensity and extra training sessions and never mentioned the late night sessions to Aldrich.

He had nearly slipped up. Saskia had been acting strange for a few days, avoiding him and stopping their sessions. Heinrich didn't understand why but the rest of the pack did.

Saskia was grieving.

She had received an owl one morning after breakfast. The owl carried the Ministry of Magic's insignia, something that the dark-haired woman knew nothing good could come from. With trembling hands, she opened the letter under the watchful eyes of Fenrir and Aldrich. The rest of the pack had left, including Heinrich. Some of the younger werewolves had offered to teach him Quidditch.

" _We are sorry to inform you of the passing of your son, Heinrich Beltz,"_ Saskia read _._ Her hands began to tremble harder and her voice cracked as she continued to read.

" _There was an unfortunate incident where he transformed during the full moon into a werewolf and attacked a Ministry official. There was no choice but to put him down for his actions, as attacking a Ministry official is a grievous crime and punishable by death since the attacker was a werewolf._

" _We are also sorry to inform you that we cannot return his body to your family. The Aurors in charge of prisoners at Azkaban prison were not aware that he had family and decided to give him a sea burial, which is how prisoners that perish are normally buried._

" _Our sincerest apologies,_

_The Ministry of Magic._

Saskia wasn't sure if her body was trembling with rage or horror. She looked at Fenrir.

"How could he have transformed," she demanded. "He hadn't been bitten yet."

"Apparently he must have gone against your orders and had gotten one of his friends to bite him. I'm sure you know who."

"Gunther," Saskia snarled. She would rip the older teen from limb to limb. If he hadn't been so reckless and bit her son, he might still be alive.

"It must've been his first full moon," Fenrir said. "I was around on the last one and didn't see any new pack members."

Saskia crumpled up the letter and tossed it in the fire as she stalked out of the room. She had a boy to track down and demand answers from. She didn't see Fenrir and Aldrich trade knowing looks behind her back as she left.

Fenrir didn't care that she was grieving. After a few days of tracking Heinrich's progress, he noticed that the boy was out of focus and not catching on as quickly as he normally did. That wouldn't do. They had been so close to having a breakthrough.

Reading the headlines about the wizarding world marking the Boy-Who-Lived's birthday and mentions to the still missing teen, Fenrir had had enough. As much as he didn't trust Saskia to separate her emotions from what needed to be done, Heinrich's declining progress showed that he needed her.

"You've had long enough," he growled once he had cornered her in a study. "Remember our plan."

"Your plan," Saskia bit out. "You've had no problem relegating me to the sidelines recently."

"Still, you're affecting the boy," Fenrir snapped. "Now snap out of it and go back to the way things were. I didn't approve of you going behind my back but you were making progress. Start to make more progress or I'll remind you that there are more things that you can lose other than your son."

It didn't take long for Saskia to catch on. Her dark eyes widened.

"You'll force me out of the pack?" she asked in a horrified whisper. Fenrir gave a curt nod and stepped away.

"Just remember what I'm capable of," he growled. "Your family won't put up with you and you don't have a son any longer. Do you really want to lose the pack as well?"

Saskia was still shaken up that night when she went to Heinrich's room. She thought she could hide her emotions away but apparently the boy was a bit more perceptive than she had estimated.

'What happened?" Heinrich asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Saskia said. "Someone was just reminding me of my position in the pack."

Green eyes furrowed in confusion. Heinrich wasn't sure what she meant by that and voiced his confusion. Saskia sighed at the question.

"I'm no one special in the pack," she said. "And there were concerns over how I've been acting the last few days. Fenrir reminded me that since he invited me into the pack, he could just as easily ask me to leave. No one else would really care."

"That's horrible," Heinrich stated, shock coloring his voice. Saskia merely shrugged.

"Now where did we leave off?"

Saskia had brought up Fenrir's name for one reason. She didn't want the teen to completely trust the alpha werewolf and this gave him a reason for not having that full amount of trust. As long as there was that tiny bit of doubt in his mind about Fenrir's intentions and what he was capable of, Saskia knew her place in the pack was secure. Fenrir couldn't get rid of her because she, as the boy's supposed mother, was the one person in the pack that Heinrich fully trusted and took her words at face value. No one else had the same amount of trust, not even the alpha.

Just the thought of the power she held over the teen made Saskia glow with a smug pride. She pushed the past few days out of her mind. Her true son was dead now and there was nothing she could do about it. Instead, she could devote all of her attention to the wizard filling her son's place.

Dark eyes turned toward Heinrich and watched what he was capable of doing.

"Do it again," she ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This brings me up to speed with what's posted on fanfiction.net. I'll be posting the next chapters whenever I update over there, which is either monthly or every two weeks. For anyone that's interested in the dates that I'll be updating or anything else, I've created a Facebook page, where I'll be posting not only my updates, but also questions, polls, statuses about my writing, update schedules, milestones, new story ideas, and basically anything writing related I feel like posting. I would love to interact with my readers so feel free to post on the page. Search Cheyla in the Facebook search bar and you should be able to find it. The page's profile picture is a black and white baby dragon so you know you've found the right page.


	7. Chapter 7

A few mornings later Heinrich rolled over in bed. He had slept in later than normal because his training with Saskia had gone later than normal. Like he did every morning, he cast the moon tracking charm and sighed when he discovered that tonight there would be a full moon.

He wondered what Fenrir had in mind for him this month. He couldn't go back to the cottage because that had burned and turned to ashes last month.

Unbeknownst to the boy, Fenrir hadn't made any plans. Instead, he would let Saskia make the decisions. She had voiced concern earlier on in the month about his plans and didn't seem to think that he could protect the boy. Since she was pretending to be his mother, Fenrir didn't really have another choice than to let her make her own plans. The boy wasn't a werewolf, so Fenrir couldn't control him like he did with the rest of the pack. Plus there was the annoying little fact that a mother's wishes about the unbitten children trumped whatever the alpha wished.

Fenrir really needed to find away around that rule. That rule was part of the reason why he had started going after the children of wizards and witches that had wronged him. If he bit them early, before parents even started thinking about what they wanted for their children in the future, he could get control over them. Once bitten, there weren't many children that had escaped his clutches.

* * *

After lunch, Saskia led Heinrich away from the manor.

"I wish you could stay on the manor grounds," she said as they walked away. "But it's too dangerous. There will be at least a dozen werewolves on the ground and I'm not confident that repelling charms will be able to keep that many away. Maybe one or two but not over a dozen."

"Where am I going instead?"

Saskia's expression was unreadable.

"You'll be staying with an old friend," she said.

"What sort of friend?" Heinrich wanted to know. Saskia barely held in the growl that formed in her throat.

'That's not your concern," she snapped. "Just know that it's a safe place and no one but me and him will know that you're there."

"So it's a male friend?"

"It's not your father, if that's what you're wondering," Saskia growled. She would never deal with that man again.

His brother on the other hand…

She knew that she could trust him to stay silent about the boy's true identity. If she told him that the boy's name was Heinrich Beltz, her son's uncle would go to his grave claiming that the boy was Heinrich Beltz. He wouldn't tell any other Death Eater or Order of the Phoenix member that Harry Potter was staying at his home.

Once outside of the manor grounds, Saskia apparated them away.

"When will I learn how to do that?" Heinrich questioned her. The more he was apparated, the easier the sensation became on his stomach. He was able to stay on his feet now as well.

"Once you turn seventeen," Saskia said. "You still have some time before that happens."

"But I'll become a Death Eater before then," Heinrich protested. "Shouldn't I know how to apparated before then?"

"What makes you think that you'll become a Death Eater before you come of age?" Saskia demanded in a sharp voice. Heinrich looked taken aback by her tone.

"Because I was about to become one before I went to the Ministry and got imprisoned," he said. "At least according to my journals. That was supposed to be my final test."

Saskia had forgotten about that. She didn't respond to his silent question, instead rapping on the door to the house in front of her.

"Antonin," she said, relieved at seeing a familiar face. She knew that the man hadn't seen the teen behind her, which allowed her some time to explain.

"Saskia," the man said in a curt voice. "What do you want?"

"I, and Fenrir, were hoping that you could take in my son Heinrich for the next few nights, until the full moon has passed. He's not bitten yet and last month he got into a bit of trouble. I trust that you'll be able to keep him out of trouble."

"Heinrich?" The man's brow had furrowed in confusion. Clearly he had heard about the letter the Ministry of Magic had sent. Saskia nodded and stepped aside to reveal the green-eyed teen.

Instantly Antonin's brown eyes flicked up to the scare on the boy's forehead. Saskia could see his hands twitching toward his wand. Instead of growling she asked, "Please? Fenrir and I really have no choice and we felt that you might be a decent option. Besides, Heinrich is still interested in becoming a Death Eater and you would be able to tell him more about such things than I ever could.

Antonin's hand stopped twitching in faint surprise.

"A Death Eater?" he asked the teen. "Are you certain?"

Heinrich nodded. "As certain as I can be right now."

"Keep him safe and secret," Saskia whispered as Antonin stepped back to let the boy inside his house. "He was nearly killed during the last full moon and he can't be allowed to die. We have plans for him."

Antonin gave Saskia a thin smile.

"Don't worry," he said. "No one will know that he's here. However, you should fill me in on these plans sometime. I'm dying to know about them." His brown eyes flickered toward the teen.

"Fenrir knows more than I do," Saskia said coldly. "Treat him like you've always treated my son because that's who he believes he is."

"He believes that he's Heinrich?" Antonin asked. Saskia nodded.

"A potion," she explained. "I'll be back in a few days." The female werewolf apparated away, leaving the two males alone.

"Who are you?" Heinrich asked as he looked around the house. "My mother didn't say and I can't remember if I met you before or not."

The older man smiled. So what Saskia had said was true. The boy had no idea who he really was.

"My name is Antonin Dolohov," he said. "Tell me, Heinrich. What do you want to know about being a Death Eater?"

Heinrich stared at the man for a few seconds before replying.

"Can you teach me to apparate?" he asked. "I haven't learned how yet and my mother won't teach me. I doubt any of the others in the pack will teach me."

"Is that all you want to know?" Antonin Dolohov wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to that. Heinrich shrugged.

"Well, everyone else has been teaching me spells and curses and how to duel," he said. "The only thing I haven't really learned are potions and how to make them but I don't think there's much of a demand for making them."

"Not unless you're interested in becoming a healer or a master of the art," Dolohov agreed. "Which you've never had much of a knack of."

Heinrich's green eyes blinked in surprise.

"Really?" he asked. "Then how did I—" He stopped and looked slightly embarrassed.

"How did you what?" Dolohov pushed. Heinrich shuffled his feet.

"Apparently I took a potion to erase my memories," he muttered. "If I didn't have the talent for making potions, how did I get my hands on it? I doubt I had money to buy one."

"That will just have to remain a mystery," Antonin replied. "So apparation is what you're willing to learn? I'm not a certified instructor but I'll try and teach you."

Heinrich grinned in relief.

"If we have time, do you think you could teach me some of the more useful spells that a Death Eater uses?" he asked. "I have a feeling that I haven't learned many of them."

"With Saskia teaching you?" Dolohov nearly laughed in disbelief. "No, you wouldn't have learned a fraction of them. She's not a Death Eater. She never had the stomach or personality for it."

"Aldrich has been teaching me as well," Heinrich admitted. "Isn't he a Death Eater?"

"Not a very good one," Dolohov muttered. "I don't know what Fenrir has planned for you but I think he'd want you to become more than a lower-ranked Death Eater. He'd probably want you in the inner circle with him and I."

"The inner circle?" Heinrich didn't fully understand what that meant but it sounded prestigious. "How does one get into the inner circle?"

A cruel smile crept onto Antonin Dolohov's face.

"The Dark Lord makes that decision," he said. "But don't worry. Between Fenrir and I, you can be certain that the Dark Lord will be impressed by you."

If Heinrich had thought that his training sessions with Aldrich and Saskia were difficult and tiring, it was nothing compared to his lessons with Dolohov. The man didn't hold back and Heinrich could be certain that if he didn't block or dodge the spells, he could count on the consequence of his mistakes to be painful.

Still, it encouraged him to do better, unlike with his other teachers. Now that Heinrich knew that he was working with an inner circle Death Eater, he wanted to prove what he was capable of and was willing to push himself what he believed that he was capable of. He mastered apparating within one night. By the time the second night of the full moon had passed, he had mastered twenty new spells and could use them in a duel. When the morning after the third night of the full moon had come around, Heinrich could proudly say that he was able to hold his own against another Death Eater. He still lost quite frequently but it took a few minutes compared to the mere seconds it had taken when he first arrived.

* * *

Saskia knocked on the door quietly. She didn't hear any movement inside the house but she knew that Antonin would be awake. After a moment, the door opened.

"Well?" she asked.

"The boy's eating breakfast," Antonin said calmly. "He's been up since dawn."

"On his own accord?" Dolohov shook his head and Saskia's dark eyes narrowed. "Have you been training him, Antonin?" she asked.

"Only what he's asked me to teach him. Really, Saskia. Your skills as a teacher are lacking. The boy's a quick learner if you can encourage him right."

"I've had more success than Aldrich has had," Saskia growled.

"But you've been teaching him light spells," Dolohov interrupted. "Spells that no future Death Eater should be using. It's like you don't want him to become a Death Eater."

"And what have you taught him?" Saskia demanded.

"Just the necessities," Antonin replied coldly. "The things he needs to know before the Dark Lord marks him. It would be pointless if he couldn't get through the initiation ceremony."

"There is no initiation ceremony," Saskia said.

"Not for the average Death Eater," Antonin responded with a smirk. "But if he wants to make more of himself than that, he'll have to duel for his place and I doubt the Dark Lord would be impressed with him stupefying and disarming his opponents."

"You want him to become a part of the inner circle," Saskia whispered. Dolohov nodded.

"You should too, if you wanted what was best for him," he said. "Unless you want the boy to be destined for a life of mediocrity?"

Saskia didn't respond. She didn't have the chance to as the pair of them heard a dish fall to the ground and break, shortly followed by a large object, much like a body.

The female werewolf pushed past Dolohov and rushed into the kitchen. Her dark eyes widened as she saw Heinrich on the ground, his limbs shaking and twisting into painful positions. In the corner of his mouth, Saskia spotted a glimpse of bloody foam.

Antonin Dolohov whispered a spell as Saskia attempted to get the boy to stay still. The food on the ground turned green.

"Poison," he announced. "Hemlock."

Saskia cursed and Dolohov whistled in appreciation at the words she used. He hadn't expected his brother's former lover to know such words.

"Get out of the way," Saskia ordered as she lifted the seizing teen into her arms, using the strength that only a werewolf could be capable of. "I need to get him to a healer."

Antonin nodded and stepped aside, allowing the woman to apparate out of his home.

* * *

Saskia had dealt with healers before. Not many of them were willing to treat werewolves but there were a few. Luckily the ones she knew of were sworn to the Dark Lord. She wouldn't have to worry about the boy falling into the Order's grasp.

The dark-haired woman apparated straight into the female healer's office, not caring if she would be with a patient. The woman looked surprised to see her.

"Saskia?" she asked. "What's going on?"

The female werewolf dropped the green-eyed teen on the small cot in the room.

"He's been poisoned with hemlock," she explained. "I need an antidote urgently."

The healer hadn't seemed to hear her. Instead, she was staring at the scar on the boy's forehead. "Is that Harry Potter?"

Saskia growled.

"Yes it is and everything will be explained later. However, I need the antidote for hemlock poisoning now and if word gets out beyond this office about the boy, I'll rip you from limb to limb myself."

The healer let out a terrified squeak and went to fetch the necessary antidote. Saskia glared at her as she left before trying to flatten the boy's dark hair down to hide the scar. She didn't need someone to walk in and spot the scar. She had been sloppy. She should have put a glamour on the boy before taking him here.

"Damn you," she whispered to the boy. "Don't you dare die and ruin our plans."

This was the second time in two months that there had been an attempt on the boy's life. Saskia needed to find out who was behind this. She had already lost her son. She wasn't going to allow this boy to die as well.

The healer rushed into the room, a small vial in her hand.

"Does he just need to take the potion?" Saskia demanded. The healer gave a timid nod.

"And bed rest for a few days," she said.

"Remember what I said," Saskia growled, grabbing the potion. She uncorked the vial and dumped its contents down the boy's throat, covering his mouth and nostrils with one hand and rubbing his throat with the other to get the contents down his throat. After a few seconds, the seizure had stopped and the boy was beginning to breathe easier. "Remember, if any word about him gets out of this room, you'll die."

She didn't wait for a response. Once Saskia was sure that the seizures wouldn't start again, she had apparated away, bringing the teen with her.

* * *

The manor was silent was Saskia carried the boy inside. Everyone was still sleeping, which was fine by her. She didn't need any of the other pack members to know that the boy was still alive. If Fenrir's suspicions were right and another werewolf had tried to kill Heinrich during that first month, they could very well be a member of the pack and responsible for this second attempt.

Saskia set the boy down on his bed and arranged the covers around him. She wiped the foam and vomit off of his face with the edge of one of the sheets. The boy was unconscious and probably would remain so for another few hours. Saskia sighed and looked around the rooms. She spotted her son's journals that the boy had been reading a few weeks ago.

Well, she had nothing better to do.

Saskia picked up the thin stack of journals and carried them over to the trunk at the foot of the bed. She sat on top of the trunk, grabbing a spare blanket, and began to read.

Heinrich still hadn't woken up when Fenrir came looking for her. The alpha werewolf spotted the vomit on the sheets and growled in irritation.

"What happened now?" he demanded. Saskia set aside the journals and stared at him with dull eyes.

"A poison attempt," she explained. "He'll be fine in a few days."

"Antonin Dolohov caught me after the meeting this afternoon," Fenrir growled. "The boy stayed with him?" Saskia nodded.

"I knew that he wouldn't say anything to other Death Eaters," she said. "He's kept my secrets before."

"He thinks that the boy is ready to become a Death Eater."

Saskia froze for a second before bowing her head.

"If you both think he's ready, then he must be," she said. "I suppose you'll bring him before the Dark Lord soon?"

"I had planned to tomorrow but now I see that those plans are no longer possible," Fenrir confirmed. "However, as soon as he's ready and can hold his own in a duel again, I'll arrange a meeting."

"So you want him to be more than a Death Eater," Saskia said in an emotionless tone.

"Of course I do," Fenrir snapped. "What would be the point in putting in all this effort if the boy was just going to be an average Death Eater?"

"It's only been two months," Saskia pointed out.

"I don't care. In case you've forgotten, this is the boy that defeated the Dark Lord when he was only an infant and again when he was only eleven. I think two months is more than enough time."

"I'll keep you updated on his progress, then," Saskia said. "When he starts coming down for meals again, you can take him to the Dark Lord."

"Good," Fenrir growled before stalking out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

It was nearly three days before Heinrich was ready to come down for meals. Saskia tried to delay as much as she could, not quite ready to lose another boy to the Dark Lord, but even she could fight the boy's restlessness.

Three days after the full moon had passed, Heinrich and Saskia entered the kitchen for lunch. A thin grin crept onto Fenrir's lips, a grin that seemed malicious to Saskia.

"Finally," he said. "I'll be back around dinner time. Gunther, Heinrich, I'll be taking you to the Dark Lord after dinner. Be prepared."

Heinrich's green eyes widened in shock but he nodded, silently pleased. He didn't look over toward Gunther, who seemed unsurprised by the announcement. A feeling of dread started to form in Saskia's stomach. She didn't trust Gunther around Heinrich. Not after hearing what he and her son had done against her wishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone that's interested, I've created a Facebook page, where I'll be posting not only my updates, but also questions, polls, statuses about my writing, update schedules, milestones, new story ideas, and basically anything writing related I feel like posting. I would love to interact with my readers so feel free to post on the page. Search Cheyla in the Facebook search bar and you should be able to find it. The page's profile picture is a black and white baby dragon so you know you've found the right page.


	8. Chapter 8

After lunch, Fenrir apparated to Malfoy Manor. He had made good time since the Dark Lord was unoccupied.

"What is it?" Lord Voldemort demanded upon seeing the werewolf.

"I have a wolf ready to be marked," Fenrir announced. "And the other project of mine is ready."

"The project that used to be Dumbledore's and is now mine?" Voldemort asked. Fenrir nodded.

"I can bring them after the pack's dinner," he announced. "I can assure my lord will not be disappointed."

"Good, because you know how I hate to be disappointed," Lord Voldemort hissed. Fenrir held back a shudder of repulsion as he saw the Dark Lord's snake starting to make its way up the man's chair. Despite being a Slytherin, he wasn't fond of reptiles, though he was willing to make exceptions.

"Before I can bring them here, I must explain," Fenrir said. There were a few other Death Eaters in the room but they didn't matter. The only ones he would be concerned about was Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange and neither of them were around. "One of the boys I am bringing to my lord is Harry Potter himself."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed and Fenrir braced himself for a pain that never came.

"How did the boy come to be in your grasp?" he asked, though he didn't seem surprised to hear that Fenrir had gained control of Harry Potter, unlike the other inner circle members in the room.

"He took a potion that wiped away his memories. I found him wandering around without a clue where he was and I've been able to make him believe that he goes by the name Heinrich Beltz and is the son of one of the females in my pack. He wishes to become a Death Eater, my lord, something no one would have believed was possible."

"Very good," the Dark Lord hissed, stroking Nagini's scales as the snake draped herself across his chair. "There's no way for his real memories to return?"

"None that I know of, my lord," Fenrir said, bowing his head. "But it's impossible to know for sure since we don't know which potion he took to erase his memories."

A smirk crossed Voldemort's thin lips.

"Well then," he said. "I look forward to meeting this…Heinrich, was it? Let's see how different he really is from Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived."

* * *

Heinrich really wasn't scared to go meet the Dark Lord. Yes, he knew the man would probably be intimidating but his first meeting with the man probably wouldn't be too terrible. The Dark Lord had hundreds of followers across Great Britain and Heinrich doubted that he had gotten all of those followers by intimidating and threatening them.

No, he expected that the Dark Lord was probably going to be somewhat charming tonight, to ensure that Heinrich and Gunther would remain loyal to them if they ever discovered something unsettling that made them question their choices.

The green-eyed teen was impressed by the manor that they were brought to. It was much larger and much more modern than the manor that the pack stayed in.

"Close your mouth," Fenrir growled to both of the teenagers. "Don't look like gawping fools and don't embarrass me."

Heinrich nodded and quickened his pace. Greyback was quickly leaving them behind and he had a feeling that getting lost here would not be a healthy experience for his body or his mind.

As soon as they were spotted, they were let inside. Clearly they had been expected.

"Don't draw attention to yourselves," Fenrir growled, though Heinrich had a feeling that it was directed more towards him than it was toward Gunther. "And don't ask questions. If you're asked to do something, just do it. I won't be responsible for what happens if you don't."

Fenrir led them to a small room to wait in before bringing Gunther directly to the Dark Lord. Heinrich was ordered to stay behind and wait, which the teen had no problem in doing. As curious as he was, he knew that it would be best if he didn't wander around and investigate. His curiosity wouldn't be met with the quiet amusement that the pack had reacted with. It would probably get him killed.

It took less than twenty minutes before Fenrir and Gunther returned. Heinrich could see the Dark Mark displayed on the tender underside of Gunther's left elbow. He wanted to ask what the initiation was like, what Gunther had to do, but before he could, Fenrir had whisked him away.

"Don't expect yours to take so quickly," Fenrir growled quietly. "Gunther was only destined to be an average Death Eater. We're expecting better from you."

Heinrich could only give a curt nod. He had known that much. Would Gunther be angry that Heinrich was destined for a higher position than he was? He knew that he and the other teen used to be friends but he doubted that their friendship would ever be rekindled.

"My Lord." Fenrir announced their presence as they entered a rather large study. The walls of the study were covered in books but Heinrich barely paid them any attention. Instead, he focused on the man standing in the center of the study.

He really wasn't sure what he had expected the Dark Lord to look like. He hadn't really given it much thought so it surprised the teen when he realized that Lord Voldemort looked exactly like he thought the man would look like. The brief imaginings he had were accurate right down to the papery white skin, the gleaming red eyes that were darkened by the room's light, and the distinct flat nose which, when seen at the right angle, looked nothing more like slits.

"My Lord," Heinrich said quietly, bowing his head and upper back. When he straightened from the bow, he kept his head bent.

"What did you say the boy's name was, Fenrir?" Heinrich tried not to shiver when he heard the whispered hiss.

"Heinrich, my lord. I've delivered him to you, just as I promised."

"Yes, you've done well in that regard," Voldemort admitted. "Tell me, Heinrich, what is it that you want?" Heinrich couldn't help but feel like his name was being used in some sort of mock.

"To become a loyal follower, my lord," he said, still not raising his head. "To become one of your Death Eaters."

"Is that it?" The Dark Lord asked.

"Heinrich has the strength to become more than an ordinary Death Eater, my lord," Fenrir quickly interjected. "I believe and Dolohov would agree that the boy could easily become a member of the inner circle."

"No," Voldemort said. Heinrich stiffened in surprise. He wasn't going to become a high-ranking Death Eater like everyone expected him to become?

"My lord?" Fenrir questioned.

"I have higher aspirations for Heinrich. I have the perfect position in mind."

Higher aspirations? What could be higher than a member of the inner circle?

"And what is that position, my lord?" Fenrir asked, trying not to stare in disbelief. He hadn't expected that Lord Voldemort would have other plans for the boy than having him become a follower.

"I have too much work that takes my time away from other pressing matters and it's been difficult to find the right person to delegate that work to. I don't have the patience to train a child with an unformed mind and those that are the right age are too set in their ways. I believe Heinrich would fit the job quite well, since he's had to start from scratch recently. His mind and beliefs are still relatively unformed, after all."

There were other reasons Voldemort wanted to keep the boy close at hand but he wasn't going to share those. It was best that those reasons be kept a secret.

If Lord Voldemort had allowed the boy to become an inner circle Death Eater, he wouldn't have the control over the boy that he desired. The only reason he had so much control over the Malfoy family was because he had claimed their manor for his home.

Due to the horcrux inside of Harry Potter, Voldemort couldn't let the boy have too much freedom. He didn't want to lose another horcrux if the boy accidentally got himself killed. He had lost too many as it was.

The horcrux had been a surprise but not an unwelcome one. The horcrux meant that the boy would live as long as he would and Lord Voldemort really did need someone to take care of the more distracting work. Having someone around that would live as long as he would meant that he didn't need to bother with retraining mortals every couple of decades.

"Come closer," Lord Voldemort ordered. Heinrich obeyed immediately, not fighting. The sight pleased the reptilian-like man. There was no fight in the boy, nothing that resembled the Gryffindor side to the boy that he had detested. No, there was only obedience. "Give me your right arm."

The Dark Lord hadn't marked any people in this way but he needed to make sure that the boy stood out from his other Death Eaters. They needed to know that this boy was only Lord Voldemort's equal, not anyone else's. Voldemort was loathe to see that they were equals, however. He would ensure that the boy would never gain that much power. Only Lord Voldemort would be the true ruler.

Heinrich held back a hiss of pain as he felt the skin being on his wrist being branded. When Voldemort's wand was removed, he could clearly see the Dark Mark darkening on his skin.

"Finally," the man hissed quietly. "Fenrir leave us. You have no reason to remain at the manor any longer."

"It is my lord's wish that the boy remain here?" Fenrir questioned, trying not to frown. Having the boy live at Malfoy Manor had not been part of his plans. The werewolf tried not to yelp as the man directed a cutting curse at him.

"Leave," Lord Voldemort ordered.

Heinrich tried not to show the dismay as Fenrir left the room. He wasn't going to go home to the pack's manor? He wasn't going to see his mother again?

"My lord, my things…" He spoke without thinking. There was a brief flash of pain and when Heinrich could gather his thoughts again, he was on the ground. He coughed as he sat up and tried to ignore the bitter taste of blood in his mouth.

"You aren't a werewolf, so you don't need to remain with that pack," Lord Voldemort said. "Fenrir will bring the things he deems that you can't live without but the Malfoys will provide the rest, including a new wardrobe of clothes. You'll be getting rid of those disgusting rags."

Heinrich nodded silently. He didn't attempt to get to his feet, instead choosing to stay on the ground and keep his eyes on the floor.

"A house elf will show you to your quarters," Lord Voldemort announced. "You're to stay there until summoned." Heinrich nodded again. He held his breath until the older man left the room. It wasn't until the door closed that he got to his feet.

There was a loud crack in the air, which caused Heinrich to jump in surprise. He stared, green eyes startled, at the creature that had appeared. Was this the house elf that Lord Voldemort had mentioned? The pack's manor didn't have any, though Heinrich had read about him when he had briefly studied magical creatures.

"Libby is to takes the young sir to his room," the creature said. "Would the young sir pleases follow Libby?"

Heinrich nodded and followed Libby, watching it curiously. There were so many questions he wanted to ask but he wasn't sure which questions should be asked first.

The hallways were empty as the pair walked through them. It was apparent that the owners of the manor weren't entertaining company tonight. With the Dark Lord in the manor, his wishes took precedence over any plans that the owners of the manor had had.

The quarters Heinrich was led to were much grander than the single room he had stayed in at the pack's manor. There was a fire roaring in the fireplace in the living area, which was furnished with dark, plush couches and armchairs. Heinrich grimaced as he spotted a wolf's pelt being used as a rug in the center of the room.

Off of the living area were the bedroom, bathroom, and a small study. The study was bare of any books and the drawers in the desk were empty. The bathroom was larger than any in the pack's manor, with a bath that was roughly the size of a small pool. The bed took up most of the bedroom, but there was a large walk-in closet that was also empty.

"Is this being to the young sir's pleasure?" Libby asked. Heinrich nearly nodded but then he remembered the wolf's pelt.

"Get rid of the wolf skin and any other animal skins," he ordered. "I don't like the look of them." He felt strange giving out orders but he knew that the house elf expected it. Libby nodded and went to promptly obey.

Heinrich approached the large bed. It was the same dark color as the couches in the living area. The sheets were soft and he didn't doubt that the pillows contained actual feathers. There was a note on one of the pillows and Heinrich immediately recognized Fenrir's handwriting. When had the man had time to write a note and how had he known that Heinrich would be led here?

The green-eyed teen unfolded the note.

_Don't let me down. Remember, there are others than I that are relying on you making the Dark Lord satisfied._

Heinrich didn't need it to be written any plainer. If something happened that made Fenrir unhappy with him, the werewolf would take his anger out on his mother. Fenrir couldn't lay his hands on Heinrich while he was with the Dark Lord but Saskia was defenseless.

Heinrich's left hand clenched into a fist and it shook. He crumpled up the note before letting it drop to the floor. As it fell, the teen began punching the nearest pillow repeatedly. Once he had regained some form of control, Heinrich looked around. The top of the bed was covered with feathers.

The teen sighed.

"Libby?" he asked. The house elf apparated into the room.

"Is young sir be needing something?" she asked.

"Clean up these feathers," Heinrich ordered. "And I'll be needing a new pillow."

The house elf nodded and began to clean up. Heinrich wandered away from the bedroom and into the living area. He had been ordered to wait until he was summoned. Summoned for what?

Since the quarters were largely empty, Heinrich had nothing better to do than to ponder what the Dark Lord had said.

What work had the Dark Lord meant? What was he supposed to be doing? Clearly he wouldn't be performing typical Death Eater tasks. The tasks he assumed that he would be completing were tasks that Voldemort didn't typically trust with other Death Eaters. The man had just met him and yet, he had determined that Heinrich was trustworthy enough.

Heinrich rubbed his forehead and his hand came in contact with the scar on his forehead. He typically was able to forget it was there but ever since he had left the pack's manor, his head had been aching and most of the pain seemed to be located behind the scar. It wasn't a headache, necessarily, but Heinrich didn't know what else it could be. Hopefully it was nothing serious.

* * *

Lord Voldemort watched his inner circle carefully. Nagini was resting at his feet, full from her most recent meal a few days ago. If one looked at her, which few seldom did, they could see her still swollen body. It would take her several days to return to her normal size, as it often did when she ate a whole deer.

Fenrir was explaining to the rest of the inner circle about their newest member. It had been several hours since Lord Voldemort had marked Harry Potter as one of his followers and when the man had returned for that night's meeting, he was sporting a scratched cheek that he hadn't had when he left. It had seemed that someone with very sharp nails had attempted to strike him. There was a small satchel next to the man's normal chair, a satchel that Voldemort assumed held the boy's belongings that Fenrir had been requested to bring.

When Fenrir Greyback had announced that Harry Potter was in the manor, the majority of the inner circle had been enraged and ready to attack before the situation was fully explained. The only ones that hadn't reacted were the handful that had been in the room when Fenrir had made the original announcement to Lord Voldemort and Antonin Dolohov. The protests of those that had been unaware had been silenced when the Dark Lord had cast a silencing charm over them, along with a few well-placed Cruciatus curses.

"None of the information Fenrir has shared is to be spread beyond the people in this room," the Dark Lord ordered. It was clear enough. There were a few inner circle members missing from this meeting, including Severus Snape, and the lack of trust in those inner circle members was now obvious. Lucius Malfoy stared down at his plate. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was now living in his manor. He would have never thought that would be the case.

Once it became clear that the inner circle members would not attack the boy once he entered the room, Lord Voldemort snapped his fingers, a silent order for the house elf to fetch the green-eyed boy.

* * *

Heinrich didn't know what to expect when Libby came and fetched him. His green eyes glittered in confusion as he was led to the dining area. It was nearly midnight, too late for dinner. Did that mean that the room was used for other things than meals?

The inner circle was arranged around the table, with Lord Voldemort seated in the center. It was odd to see him there instead of at the head of the table, where Fenrir normally sat during meals at the pack's manor. There was an empty space to the left of the Dark Lord. Judging by Libby's gestures, Heinrich was supposed to sit there.

The teen obeyed, his eyes scanning over the faces of the inner circle. He recognized Antonin Dolohov, who gave him a curt nod. A few seats away was Fenrir. Heinrich's eyes darkened upon seeing the werewolf. He hadn't forgotten the threats.

Lord Voldemort watched in faint amusement as he saw the boy's reaction to Greyback. So there was tension between the two. He could use that to his advantage. He couldn't risk the boy being loyal to anyone other than him. If he manipulated the tension between the two, he could easily ensure the boy's loyalty would remain solely to him.

As Heinrich sat, the tension rose in the air. It seemed that no one was sure how to react to his presence. The green-eyed teen didn't seem to notice Nagini at his feet but the snake raised her head and flicked her tongue, scenting the air. Before she could recognize the scent and strike, Voldemort intervened.

"He's not to be touched, Nagini. He's like you in some ways."

Heinrich blinked in confusion at the man's words but didn't seem to find anything out of the ordinary. It didn't seem to occur to him that he was able to understand what had been said while the others hadn't.

Good, Lord Voldemort decided. It would have been difficult to explain why the boy could understand the language of snakes when he believed that he had been raised among werewolves.

Now certain that Nagini would no longer attack her former enemy, Lord Voldemort started demanding answers from his inner circle. His abrupt transition to the topics of the meeting after the boy's entrance threw off the first few Death Eaters, probably earning more punishments than normal.

Heinrich watched the proceedings of the meetings carefully, wondering if he would be called upon. However, he wasn't. Instead, the Dark Lord acted like he wasn't even there, skipping over his seat without a second glance. Heinrich couldn't keep the bitter smirk off his face when Fenrir made a comment that drew the Dark Lord's ire and subjected the man to a whipping hex.

It didn't escape his notice that some of the inner circle members were subjected to the Dark Lord's ire more than others. Some Death Eaters were clearly favored above others. He also took note of a few empty seats around the table. Not all of the inner circle was at this meeting. Were they allowed to miss meetings or had they not been summoned?

It also didn't escape Heinrich's notice that most of the Death Eaters in the room were men, with only a handful of women. One of them was eyeing Heinrich with a psychotic glean in her eyes. The boy resisted the urge to shiver. How had someone so clearly insane have risen so high?

Bellatrix Lestrange was her name, Heinrich learned moments later. For some reason, her name filled him with a sudden anger. Heinrich's hands twitched toward his wand but he stilled his hands before he could draw attention toward himself. As much as he wanted to, Heinrich didn't think now would be the best time to curse her. Besides, he wasn't sure that a curse would have any affect on her. From the insane glimmer in her eyes, it could very well be likely that she would enjoy the pain he would inflict on her.

After the meeting had passed, Heinrich was left still puzzling over his reaction to the woman's name. Had he met her before to cause such a reaction? Or was this just an example of him hating another person on sight? From his journals, Heinrich had read that such things had happened in the past, but he hadn't imagined it would cause feelings of hatred that strong. He had wanted to kill Bellatrix, not just hurt her for a few minutes.

Heinrich was oblivious to the red eyes that followed him on his trek back to his newest quarters. The Dark Lord had watched the boy carefully throughout the meeting. He hadn't seemed to recognize the names of most of his Death Eaters, though he had felt a surge of anger go through the boy when Bellatrix Lestrange had begun to speak. It had been clear that the boy didn't know why, though.

So his memories were truly gone but his subconscious still remembered some of his old feelings toward his larger enemies. However, it was strange that the boy had reacted so strongly towards Bellatrix but not towards him or Lucius Malfoy. It gave him plenty to consider over the next few days.


	9. Chapter 9

After the meeting, Libby had taken the satchel from Greyback and had taken it to his rooms. Heinrich examined its contents. The man hadn't brought back much but he had given the boy a few things, such as his journals and a few other books.

"Libby is being told that the young sir is to be trying new clothes tomorrow instead of being with the Dark Lord," the house elf informed him as Heinrich began to place the books on the shelves in the study. Heinrich sighed at the news. From the way the house elf talked, it sounded like getting a new wardrobe of clothes would take up most of the day.

She had been right, Heinrich learned. Breakfast had been delivered to his room and almost as soon as he had been done eating, the house elf had led him to the rooms of Narcissa Malfoy.

Heinrich wasn't sure what to think of the woman. He had discovered during the meeting the previous night that he was residing in her house. The woman didn't seem to mind that the Dark Lord was living in her house but he had the feeling that she wouldn't easily reveal what she was truly feeling.

When he had entered the room, she had stared at him before sniffing and beginning to order the seamstress around. She barely glanced at him or said anything beyond what was necessary. Heinrich was beginning to get the feeling that while she couldn't say anything about his presence in her house, she didn't want him around. Was it because of his mother? Because of her curse? Was she judging him based on what his mother was? Based on something that he couldn't control?

The realization that that might be the case made Heinrich stare coldly at the woman. She stared back just as coldly before ordering him to hold up his arms and let the seamstress measure his chest for a third time.

By the end of the day, Heinrich's walk-in closet was filled with robes, dress robes, trousers, shirts, polos, ties, underclothes, socks, and shoes. He doubted that he would wear all of these new clothes but since he was receiving them for free, he wasn't about to voice his thoughts. He also knew that there would be more expectations from him at the Dark Lord's side than there were among the pack. If new clothes were a part of those expectations, he would just have to deal with it.

Libby popped into the room as Heinrich was examining his new wardrobe. He looked at her, wondering what she had been ordered to tell him.

"The Dark Lord is requesting that the young sir come down for dinner," she said. Heinrich nodded in understanding.

"Are there others there?" he asked.

"Just the Dark Lord and Master and Mistress Malfoy is being in the manor," Libby said. Heinrich was relieved to hear that. Last night had been awkward for him. He had a feeling that his position had come to a surprise for most of the inner circle Death Eaters. They probably hadn't expected someone new to come into their midst. Add to the fact that Heinrich was in a different position than them and it only made sense that there would be some stares and jealous looks, not to mention stiff conversation.

Heinrich started to open the door but he spotted Libby giving his clothes a reproachful look. The teen hesitated.

"What is it?" he asked. Libby fidgeted nervously upon being caught.

"Young sir should not bes going to dinner withouts wearing a robe," the house elf said. "It's not being propers."

Heinrich looked down at his trousers and button up long-sleeved shirt. He hadn't expected that something would be wrong with his current ensemble.

"Then pick out something else for me to wear," he ordered.

A few minutes later, Heinrich was striding down the hall, wearing one of his new robes. It was a basic black robe but according to Libby, it would be more proper to wear a robe than to wear nothing over his clothes. It was just the first clue that Heinrich still had a lot to learn about the wizarding world. He was starting to get the feeling that his etiquette lessons were lacking, since that didn't seem to matter much among the pack. Werewolves seemed to prefer efficiency to being polite.

The other three were already sitting when Heinrich arrived. The teen noticed with a feeling of discomfort that both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stood upon seeing him. He had a feeling that they wouldn't have stood up had he been an ordinary Death Eater.

Lord Voldemort watched the Malfoy family carefully. He had been furious with them earlier in the summer when he had discovered they had sent their son out of the country for the season, preventing him from branding the boy as one of his Death Eaters. Now he could see that it had been for the best. He wouldn't have been able to trust the boy to keep his mouth closed about this newest development. Now the Dark Lord just had to worry about Draco's parents writing to him. He had already given orders for any owls sent out by either Lucius or Narcissa to be redirected to his study so he could check their correspondence before it was delivered to the correct destination.

That was one of the tasks he would train Heinrich to deal with eventually. However, that would be one of the last tasks added to the list, when Lord Voldemort no longer had to be concerned about word of the boy's change in allegiance getting out. Once it became well known in the magical community, he would pass that task over to Heinrich.

Heinrich sat down without apologizing for his lateness. He would apologize if something was said but he was starting to realize what powers his new position would give him.

The meal served was much richer than Heinrich was accustomed to. Meals with the werewolves had been simple and there was an emphasis on meats and proteins. Tonight's meal contained a wide variety of foods and left Heinrich wondering what would happen to the uneaten food. Did it go to waste or would the house elves save it for later meals? He didn't quite feel comfortable enough to ask. The others at the table were eating in silence, though he suspected the Malfoys were staying silent out of fear.

Well, he could relate. He didn't want to speak up in fear of accidentally angering the Dark Lord. He had already been punished once and even though that was brief, it wasn't something he wanted to repeat any time soon.

"Leave us," Lord Voldemort ordered at the end of the meal. Heinrich glanced at him to see whom the order was directed to. The man's red eyes were glaring at the Malfoys and they quickly left, all sense of propriety vanishing at the order.

"My lord?" Heinrich asked after a few moments of silence. He tried not to fidget in his seat when red eyes were turned on him.

"In the mornings, you'll have lessons in dueling, spells and curses, and politics," the Dark Lord stated. "With the Lestrange family and Lucius Malfoy. After lunch, you'll be shadowing me, learning what you need to do. I don't permit interruptions, so you'll be expected to remain silent while I'm working. After dinner, your nights will be spent based on what I decide that you need to do. Libby will fetch you for any meetings that I've determined you should be at. If there's a meeting and your presence hasn't been requested, you will be expected to remain in your quarters."

The Dark Lord didn't ask if he understood. The teen should have been aware that he didn't waste time asking for such things. Either one did as the Dark Lord commanded or they were punished painfully.

"You can spend the rest of the night in your quarters," Lord Voldemort decided. "Your presence isn't needed anywhere else for the rest of the night." Heinrich nodded and got to his feet. He attempted to leave the dining room as quickly as he was able but he was stopped shortly before he got to the door by one last order.

"Your lessons start at dawn."

The Dark Lord watched the teen go, thinking quietly to himself. With the way he had arranged things, he was in control over whom the teen would come in contact with. He could keep the boy isolated if he so wished but he could also manipulate the friendships and relationships the boy formed. As much as he detested such things, he understood that they were necessary. The boy needed relationships to rely on, especially when he would be introduced to the darker side of things. Lord Voldemort didn't expect the boy to participate in activities such as torturing and executing prisoners but he had to know of them. If the boy had a steady relationship with someone in the household, he would be committed to staying in the manor, even if he didn't like the activities he had agreed to be associated with.

The only question that Lord Voldemort was left with was whom he should urge the boy to form those relationships with. He had to be certainty of the loyalty of the Death Eaters the teen would associate with.

It was one thing to say that lessons started at dawn and it was another thing entirely to actually go to the aforementioned lessons. Heinrich was accustomed to waking up shortly after the sun rose but to get to his lessons on time, he had to wake up before the sun actually rose.

Libby's presence made things easier for the teen. The house elf had continued picking out his clothes ever since he had ordered her to do so that first night, which cut down on the time he had to spend getting ready in the morning. The house elf also delivered his breakfast in the morning and made sure that he was awake. All Heinrich really had to do was made sure that he stayed awake to get dressed, eat breakfast, and make sure his hair and teeth were clean.

He had been late once, for a dueling lesson with the Lestranges. That morning had also been the first and only time he had been placed in a duel against Bellatrix Lestrange.

That had been quite an experience. Heinrich still shuddered whenever he thought of that morning. He hadn't known he would be dueling until he had walked into the room and had spotted the woman waiting for him.

His first assumption had been right, he realized quickly into the duel. She had been amused when he had placed her under the Cruciatus curse and had spent most of the duel cackling wildly, despite the fact that Heinrich was trying to place her under the most painful curses he could think of.

At least his unexplainable anger towards the woman made the duel easier than expected. He hadn't been as inhibited as he normally had been and he had discovered that he had known many more curses than he had thought he knew. Dueling with someone he hated as much as Bellatrix Lestrange had made him very inventive with his dueling techniques.

Unfortunately he hadn't had the opportunity to duel with her again. It was slightly disappointing. He didn't enjoy being around the woman but the duel had been enjoyable.

Much more enjoyable than his politics lesson with Lucius Malfoy.

The man had been perfectly civil to him the entire time Heinrich had stayed in Malfoy Manor, much more civil than his wife had been, but for some reason, Heinrich didn't trust him. Maybe it was the fact that the man seemed to charm everyone and remind Heinrich that he was young and awkward still. Or maybe it was because the man seemed to be too slippery and incapable of giving a straight answer. The only time Heinrich had heard the man give the closest thing to a short answer was when he was talking with Lord Voldemort.

Lord Voldemort.

It had been nearly two weeks and Heinrich wasn't sure what to make of the afternoons that he spent with the man. The first few days had been intimidating and Heinrich was sure that he had messed up things more than he had gotten them right. He had tried his best but he was always too slow to move out of the way or to fetch something. He already had marks from the numerous hexes that had been sent in his direction but he refused to say anything about them. He wouldn't be seen as weak. Other Death Eaters bore their punishments without complaint and Heinrich was determined to do the same.

Lord Voldemort had been completely serious when he had said that he expected for Heinrich to remain silent and out of the way. Even the smallest sigh could subject the teen to some form of punishment or an irritated hex. Heinrich would sit across the desk from the man, watching him do paperwork, or stand off to the side when the man was meeting with members of the inner circle. He wasn't allowed to do any of the paperwork or read anything other than what was given to him. It was a very restricted living, Heinrich realized somewhat bitterly. He wasn't adjusting well to the sudden amount of restrictions that were placed on him and the green-eyed boy was aware that those restrictions wouldn't ease up until he could prove himself in some way.

Heinrich quickly realized that the Dark Lord didn't deal with Death Eaters outside of the inner circle too often. There were only one or two meetings a week that all Death Eaters were ordered to attend, not the nearly daily meetings that the inner circle were required to attend.

The other Death Eaters were aware of Heinrich's presence and his new position but none of them had actually seen his face. During the larger meetings, all faces were hidden except for Lord Voldemort's. Libby had provided Heinrich with a mask the night of the first meeting, similar to the mask that all Death Eaters had, with the exception of its color. Instead of the traditional white, his was a dark red.

He was sure that the Death Eaters were curious about them but not many were allowed to stay after the meetings. None of them wanted to risk angering the Dark Lord with their continued presence just to catch a glimpse of his face.

It wasn't like they would get the chance. He was kept mostly isolated from everyone else. Normally after the meetings were complete, Heinrich was ordered back to his quarters or for further studies with Lucius Malfoy or the Lestranges.

* * *

Severus Snape resisted the urge to check his Dark Mark. It wouldn't do to check it now, not when students were expected to arrive within minutes for the welcome feast.

The Dark Mark had been weighing heavily on him for the past couple of weeks and the man was beginning to fear that he was falling out of favor with the Dark Lord. Unless the amount of meetings over the summer had decreased, Severus had begun to note that he was being summoned less and less. He understood being summoned less during the school year, when the Dark Lord was aware that he had to perform his role as a spy more than his role as obedient Death Eater, but it was strange not to deal with the constant summons throughout the summer.

To the Potions master, that meant only one thing and he was struggling to find where he had slipped up.

There was another matter of concern as well, a concern that came in the form of a red-masked Death Eater. He had appeared one night at the Dark Lord's side and since then he had been at every large meeting that was held after. Severus had expected to see him during the inner circle meetings—if a Death Eater stood out that much, surely they were favored by the Dark Lord and would be privy to such meetings—but the additional seat added to the table had remained empty at every meeting Severus had been summoned to. There were a few others in the inner circle that Severus knew hadn't seen the figure outside the larger meetings and the other members of the inner circle refused to reveal if they had seen the true face of the figure or not.

The lack of identity and the lack of information coming from Lucius only increased Severus's fears. He was no longer trusted as much as he had been before.

The Potions professor's attention was drawn to the students that were entering the Great Hall. It had seemed that they had arrived finally. With anticipation, Severus Snape and the other professors watched as the students filed in, hoping to see one face in particular.

Severus instinctively knew that Harry Potter hadn't caught the train to Hogwarts when he saw his two comrades enter the Great Hall and look up at the head table nervously. If Potter had been on that train, he would have been with them or among the other Gryffindors. As it was, Granger and Weasley were among the last group of students to enter the Great Hall before the first years arrived and the Sorting took place.

Snape had to hand it to his colleagues, especially Minerva and Albus. They didn't display any outward sign of worry, even when whispers started circulating among the Great Hall that Harry Potter hadn't arrived for his sixth year at Hogwarts.

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had been in a state of distress all summer. They had both been devastated to learn of their best friend's disappearance and they were just as confused as the members of the Order of the Phoenix as to what could have happened to Harry. The few letters they had exchanged before his disappearance hadn't revealed anything besides what they had believed would be the normal grief for a teenager that had just lost his godfather and one of the closest living memories he had had of his parents.

The empty seat next to them in the Great Hall was a stark reminder of how much they had lost over the summer.

"He's not coming back, is he?" Ron asked as he eyed the seat. Hermione could only shake her head.

"I wish he could have told us what was going on," she said. "He could have told us if things weren't easy for him but he never does! Why does he never tell us these things, Ron?"

The redhead shrugged at the question.

"So you think he left of his own accord?" he asked. "You don't think he was kidnapped like Dumbledore does?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied, hanging her head. "Dumbledore has a point because the Harry I know would never leave his wand or cloak behind but that doesn't explain the potion."

"Someone could have drugged him before kidnapping him," Ron pointed out.

"But he would have fought before then and there were no signs of a fight," Hermione said. "I don't know why he would just up and leave but I refuse to believe that it's as simple as him being kidnapped. The only ones that would want to take him are Death Eaters and if Death Eaters had gotten a hold of him, I'd think that we'd have heard something by now."

The bushy-haired girl stabbed the food on her plate in frustration. She just wanted to know what had happened to her friend.

After the welcome feast, Dumbledore gathered all of the Hogwarts professors in the staff meeting room.

"I'm sure we've all noticed the missing face," he said quietly and was met with nods. Severus stood off in the corner, knowing that he would have to take whatever Dumbledore said tonight to the Dark Lord as soon as possible. The best way to examine everyone's reactions and to fully comprehend the words being spoken was to remain off to the side, silent and nearly invisible.

"Is there any news, Albus?" Minerva questioned. "Anything at all?"

The headmaster could only shake his head.

"We haven't identified the potion that was in the vial we found yet," he said. "And there's been no news of any Death Eater claiming to have Harry Potter." The elderly man glanced at Severus, who nodded. That information was still correct. "I believe that our best course of action would be to continue our efforts to find Mr. Potter but also to start considering other options and ways that we can defeat Voldemort."

So Albus was starting to have doubts that Harry Potter was still alive or able to defeat You-Know-Who. That must have been devastating for the older man, who had whole-heartedly believed in Trelawney's prophecy.

Severus Snape had never been so optimistic. He would do everything he could to ensure that he found Potter and ensure that the boy was safe, but he wasn't under the impression that everyone else was. He didn't really believe that the boy could take down Voldemort. The older wizard was too cunning and had too much of a survival instinct.

Much like his own, Severus realized bitterly.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, Heinrich awoke with a sense of foreboding. It was well before dawn, earlier than he would normally be awoken, but he couldn't fall back asleep. Idly, he cast the moon-tracking spell and his green eyes widened minutely when he saw that the full moon was upon them.

So that was probably what had woken him.

Heinrich wasn't sure if he wanted to deal with anyone today. The last two times it had been a full moon, he had ended up nearly dead. It would have made sense if those attacks had been by transformed werewolves, considering whom he had been living with, but the attempted murders had been done using distinctly Muggle techniques. There were probably a number of reasons why a wizard or witch wouldn't use magic to kill but it made Heinrich to trust anyone, even Libby.

After deliberating for a few moments, Heinrich cast locking spells on all of his doors and windows. Those were quickly followed by wards that would prevent wizards and witches of average power from getting past the doors and windows.

It wasn't much, but it was all Heinrich could really hope to do. A stronger witch or wizard would be able to shatter his defenses and he could only pray that no one would want to. He had no idea about how to keep out house elves and hoped that it wasn't part of Libby's duties to force him to go to his lessons.

A few hours later, Libby popped inside and was surprised to see Heinrich sitting up in his bed, reading.

"Libby has brought the young sir, breakfast," she announced.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," Heinrich said calmly. The house elf stared at him, ears twitching. Clearly she was deciding what to do.

In the end, Libby said nothing about Heinrich's lack of hunger, despite that was the first meal he had refused, and pulled out his clothes for the day. Heinrich watched silently, unsure if he should tell her that he didn't plan to go out of his quarters that day. He inwardly cringed when she left a pair of black robes and his red mask on one of the chairs. There was a large meeting that he was missing tonight. Lord Voldemort would not be happy. At least Heinrich could take comfort in the fact that he was not the only Death Eater that would be missing. He knew of at least three others that would refuse to attend.

Heinrich was silently relieved when Libby didn't return in the late morning to force him to go to some of his lessons. Her eyes were wider than normal when he refused lunch and he wondered just how guilty she was feeling. He couldn't help but take note of her bandaged ears.

"Tell my lord I will gladly accept whatever punishment I deserve for missing this afternoon as long as he allows me to remain in my quarters until the full moon has passed," Heinrich informed the house elf. Libby nodded but the look on her face made it clear that she was scared to deliver the news.

Immediately after delivering the refused lunch back to the kitchens, the terrified house elf went to face Lord Voldemort. The man was within the privacy of his office, alone.

Lord Voldemort stared at the house elf in slight disdain. Normally he didn't deal with the creatures and they stayed far away from him.

"Young sir Heinrich is refusing to leave his quarters," the house elf squeaked. "Young sir Heinrich is saying that he will gladly take the Master's punishment for missing this afternoon and tomorrow's afternoon if Master is allowing him to stay in his quarters until after the full moon is being passed."

 _Until the full moon had passed?_  Lord Voldemort stiffened at the insinuation. Fenrir had assured him that the boy hadn't been bitten but now he wasn't so sure that he could accept the werewolf's word. Ignoring the quivering elf, the Dark Lord chose instead to sweep out of his office and demand from the boy himself what was going on. He would not have a transformed werewolf that hadn't taken any sort of wolfsbane potion in this manor and if need be, he would put the boy down himself.

Heinrich felt the wards and barriers around his quarters fall with one well-placed spell. The door flung open and he had barely made it out of his bed before Lord Voldemort appeared in the doorway. The green-eyed teen barely had time to register the man's presence before he tumbled to the floor. Heinrich bit his lip in an attempt not to scream but it was difficult to manage when his limbs were twisting into unnatural positions and it felt like every cell in his body was on fire. The pain seemed to last for hours but when it eased, Heinrich glanced at the clock hanging above the doorframe. The minute hand hadn't even moved.

"Explain," Lord Voldemort ordered. The teen attempted to gather his words and fight to find his voice through the pain but apparently it wasn't fast enough for his lord. His limbs began to seize and shudder again as the fire returned.

"The moon," he gasped out, ignoring the taste of blood in his mouth. "Always been isolated during the moon." The pain eased somewhat and he was able to formulate longer sentences. "The past two full moons someone's attempted to kill me. Figured it was safer to keep myself locked away."

Then the pain was gone entirely. Heinrich knew better than to attempt to sit up. He would just be cursed again and he had a feeling that his body wouldn't let him move to that extent.

"It's also the summer," Heinrich heard himself saying. "I don't know why but it feels more comfortable to lock myself away this summer, like I'm more used to it now than I would be during the other parts of the year."

His chest lifted off the ground as the pain returned. Heinrich was sure that he wouldn't be eat without pain for the next few days. He was surprised that his lips weren't torn to shreds yet but he refused to cry out.

"I don't remember why it feels that way," he said when the pain subsided. "It just feels right to be isolated right now."

Lord Voldemort regarded the teen in front of him. With the sweat dripping down his face, his body heaving in an effort to get enough air into his lungs, and his lips swollen and bloody from his teeth, the Dark Lord couldn't deny that it made a pleasing sight.

Knowing for sure that the boy wasn't bitten and knowing that he would do something he would maybe regret if he remained in the room any longer, the Dark Lord turned on his heel and swept away. Heinrich could only see the hem of his robes as he left and held in a sigh of relief. He didn't release that sigh until he heard the door to his living area close.

He had fully expected to be punished for his actions but he couldn't help but wonder if that was just the start. Three Cruciatus curses seemed too light a punishment for outright defying the Dark Lord's orders.

The teen sat up after a few minutes, wincing at the pain the movement caused. His wince soon turned into a cringe as he smelled the air. Some of the effects of the Cruciatus curse were often forgotten or ignored. Unsurprisingly, losing control of one's bowels was such a side effect.

"Libby," Heinrich called. It looked like he would need the clothes the house elf laid out after all. He grimaced at the mess on the floor and glanced at the house elf that had appeared and was wringing her small hands nervously. "Clean this up," the teen ordered as he shakily got to his feet. When he was positive that he could stand on his own accord and walk across the room to the bathroom, he stumbled and grabbed the robes off the chair, along with the underclothes Libby had set out.

A bath had never felt so good, he imagined. The warm water soothed his aching joints and he was able to relax and get his bearings back. When he was able to think clearly again, Heinrich began to wonder about the next few days. Would he be punished again tomorrow when he refused to leave his quarters? Or had that been the end of their discussion about the subject? Lord Voldemort hadn't left any clues as to what Heinrich might be able to expect.

Lord Voldemort took advantage of the time spent away from his former enemy to get some research done. He had struggled to find a task that would prove the boy's loyalties to him and that his memories were truly lost. Lord Voldemort didn't trust words alone and he knew that his inner circle Death Eaters refused to accept the boy without some sort of test. They had all completed a test to prove their loyalty and it irritated them to see a boy half their age be placed above them without doing the same. The Dark Lord didn't normally go out of his way to fulfill their wishes but he felt that it was necessary in this case.

That led him to the subjects of his current research—the inhabitants of number 4, Privet Drive.

He had always known where Harry Potter had lived but he hadn't been able to get within a few blocks of the residence. He had no idea how the boy had been treated when he lived among his relatives but if his need for isolation meant anything, Lord Voldemort could believe that the boy hadn't been treated very well. He could work that to his advantage.

It would also be the perfect task for the boy. None of his Death Eaters would contest the boy's loyalty to their lord if Harry Potter killed his only living relatives, the very people he had been raised by.

Thin lips twisted into a cruel smile. Yes, it would be perfect.

The next two days passed peacefully, much to the relief of everyone inhabiting Malfoy Manor. Heinrich still didn't believe that he had been fully punished but he wouldn't bring it up to the Dark Lord. Lord Voldemort appreciated the quietness that the boy's absence had brought. The sixteen year old had never really been noisy as he tried to learn what he would be doing for the next few years but Lord Voldemort had always been acutely aware of his presence. Just the act of breathing had drawn his attention away from his work and to the boy.

Once the full moon passed, Heinrich resumed his lessons. No one said a word about his absence and Heinrich wasn't about to give his tutors the opportunity to criticize his actions to his face. He wouldn't allow it.

The month of September crawled by slowly. Heinrich noticed the lack of meetings to take up their time but didn't bring it up for fear of saying something that the Dark Lord wouldn't approve of. His mood changed hourly and what was once an acceptable topic could suddenly become taboo in a minute's time. Heinrich had suffered enough for not picking up on some of the clues that would inform him of the Dark Lord's mood. It was best to keep silent in times of uncertainty.

Despite the slow pace of the month, Heinrich was slowly growing more comfortable and accustomed to life in Malfoy Manor. While he still feared the Dark Lord, it was no longer the pure fear that he had felt when he had first arrived at the manor. Instead, it was more of a respectful fear.

Just as September came and went, so did October. Lord Voldemort kept a close eye on the date, having planned the perfect date for Heinrich's test.

Every other Halloween had been eventful for the boy. He didn't dare break tradition.

* * *

On the night of October 30, Lord Voldemort summoned thirty of his best Death Eaters. He made sure to summon Severus Snape. He didn't trust the man but he needed Dumbledore to believe that he still did. He took a sick enjoyment in manipulating the dark-haired Potions Master and watching him try and walk the line between his two duties.

"Tomorrow is an important raid," he hissed. "Important enough that I will go to ensure that things are done correctly. Your orders are to kill as many as you can. Don't spare anyone, not that I'd imagine you'd want to. Your targets are all Muggles."

There was a mixture between disgruntled mutterings and cruel laughter at the entertainment certain Death Eaters would take from such a reign. Lord Voldemort's followers always enjoyed a no restraint order on killing, especially when Muggles were involved.

"Tomorrow," Lord Voldemort hissed. "A neighborhood called Little Whinging. Expect your summons."

With those words, he waved his wand to dismiss the Death Eaters in the large room. Severus Snape quickly apparated back to Hogsmeade, before using the Floo to enter the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore didn't look surprised to see him. He had been aware of his spy's summons. The fact that Severus had come immediately to him made him fear the worst.

"Harry?" he asked. Severus Snape shook his head.

"No mention of the boy," he said. "But another raid has been planned."

"The first one since June, is it not?" Albus asked knowingly. Severus nodded.

"It's going to be the neighborhood of Little Whinging, Albus," he said. "I fear that this means that the Dark Lord has found out about where Harry has been staying for the past few summers."

"The wards will ensure that he won't be able to get inside the Dursley's home. They shouldn't allow him to even get onto the street."

"The Dark Lord must have found a way around them," Severus snapped.

"We're missing the bigger question here, Severus," the headmaster mentioned. "The question isn't if he'll be able to get to the Dursley home but rather why he's targeted Little Whinging in the first place. Why target the neighborhood now, when Harry is no longer in the area?"

The Potions professor shrugged and began to pace around the room.

"To prove that he can get close to the boy's home?" he suggested. "He didn't give any reasons for the location of the raid. He rarely does."

"Is there any chance that it's to cover up another plan being carried out?" Dumbledore asked. "Have any Death Eaters been given a task that you know of?"

Severus Snape shook his head in irritation. "I know barely anything," he said. "I fear the Dark Lord no longer trusts me as much as he has in the past."

"I'll inform the Order and have them waiting to defend the residents of Little Whinging," Albus decided. "How many Death Eaters are expected to be there?"

"Thirty, maybe forty?" Severus guessed. "But Albus, the Dark Lord himself will be there and I suspect his new follower will be there as well."

"New follower?" the headmaster questioned and Severus hissed at his slip-up.

"I don't know who it is," he said. "I've never seen their face and they never attend the inner circle meetings that I've been summoned to. I suspect a few of the other inner circle members know but they refuse to say or hint to who it is, even Lucius. This new Death Eater is clearly different from other Death Eaters. They wear a red mask and stand at the Dark Lord's side."

The twinkle in Albus's blue eyes was gone for once.

"How long has this Death Eater been around?" the headmaster asked.

"I first saw them in August," Severus said. "But as far as I know, they haven't gone on any raids yet. Tomorrow's would be the first if they go."

"The Order will be prepared," Albus said confidently. "When will you be summoned?"

Severus shook his head. "There was nothing said about a time," he said. "Just to wait for a summons."

"We'll have plans for Halloween night, then," Albus said. "I can't imagine that Voldemort would be so foolish to attack in the daylight, not when all of his other attacks have been at night."

"But it may very well be in the day, to be unexpected," Severus warned.

"That's a risk we'll have to take then."

* * *

Lord Voldemort stared at the neighborhood in front of him. The quaintness of it was disgusting and he loathed the everyday normality of it. Every inch of the place made his skin crawl with disgust.

The sun was just touching the sky and the residents of the neighborhood were beginning to move, not aware of what was about to happen.

"It's disgusting," he heard one of the Lestrange brothers mutter. Bellatrix cackled her agreement and the Dark Lord noticed that the red-masked Death Eater beside him barely held back a flinch at the high-pitched noise.

"Remember your orders," he hissed to his Death Eaters. "Kill."

With that order, he released his followers upon the neighborhood. He prevented the boy beside him from following after the more experienced Death Eaters.

"I have a special task for you," he said.

"What sort of task?" Heinrich asked, his voice muffled by the mask.

"In Number Four Privet Drive, there's a family. If you want to prove you are truly loyal to me and only me, you will kill every single member of that household."

Heinrich nodded. It sounded like an easy enough task.

"If you fail, you won't be the only one to suffer," Lord Voldemort whispered. "More than your life is at stake."

Heinrich's green eyes hardened. Saskia and the rest of the pack. He had no doubts that the Dark Lord would kill every single member of the pack if he failed.

The teen stepped forward. After he had gone a few steps, he noticed that the Dark Lord wasn't following him.

"You aren't going to watch my performance?" he asked, feeling slightly disappointed.

The Dark Lord sneered. "I have better things to accomplish than to watch over you," he snapped. "If you want to remain in your position, you'll have to start doing things without me."

So this was more than a test, Heinrich realized. If he succeeded this morning, then he would be able to take on more tasks and do things more independently than what he had been allowed before. His freedom would return.

Well, parts of it anyways. Heinrich was marked for life and he would never truly be free from the Dark Lord again. However, he didn't wish for that sort of freedom. He was happy enough as it was.

Heinrich nodded and continued making his way toward the street sign that read Privet Drive. He idly noticed on his journey that this was close to where he had been found the night he had taken his memories. Was there more significance to this place than he realized?

It didn't matter. He had a task to complete and he would not fail, no matter what the cost.


	11. Chapter 11

Lord Voldemort watched the younger wizard go, wondering if the boy would truly kill his only living relatives. He suspected the boy would but there was always the chance that his memories might come back, especially if a spell had been used instead of a potion like everyone had assumed. If such a thing happened, Lord Voldemort had put in a contingency. The Dursleys would die this morning no matter what. What was left to decide was whose hand they would die by.

* * *

As Heinrich approached Number Four, he decided that a dramatic entrance would be necessary. What would be the point of slipping silently into the house? He wanted his targets to know that he was coming. No doubt they were already aware that something was happening in the neighborhood if they could hear their neighbors screams.

The family of three was hiding in the upstairs bedroom, behind a locked door. Heinrich sighed. Like that would keep him out.

"Alohomora," he said, flicking his wand. The lock unclicked and another wave of his wand had the door swinging open. Heinrich's eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of the muggles he had been sent to dispatch.

"Who are you?" asked one of the largest men that Heinrich had ever seen. "What do you want, freak?"

Heinrich growled at the insult.

"Imperio," he snapped. He had mastered the spell by now and suddenly, he couldn't wait to use it on an actual human target.  _"Be silent,"_  he ordered the man, using only his thoughts.  _"And sit down."_

The man sat down with a large thud on the floor. His wife and son stared at him in disbelief.

"Vernon?" his wife asked in a high-pitched twittering voice. When her husband didn't answer, she turned to Heinrich. "What did you do to him?"

"I made him obedient," Heinrich whispered. "It'll make things much easier in these next few minutes."

"You'll be arrested for this!" the woman shouted. "You won't get away with tormenting us!" She couldn't see the twisted smile that had made its way onto Heinrich's lips at her words.

"I'm not tormenting you," Heinrich said. "I'll be killing you in a matter of minutes.'

To prove his point, Heinrich turned his wand on the youngest member of the family.

"Avada Kedavra," he said in a bored tone. There was a flash of green light and the boy toppled over, dead. The woman screeched in horror and only silenced when Heinrich turned his wand on her. The masked teen kept his wand on her for a minute before turning and facing the large man.

"Get up!" he ordered out loud. He could have ordered the man using only his thoughts but he wanted to woman to know what he was capable of. "Go up to the roof and throw yourself off of it."

"No, Vernon, don't!" the woman screeched but her words had no effect on the man. The man named Vernon struggled to his feet and walked into the hallway. Heinrich cast a body-binding spell on the woman and followed the man, making sure that he would do as ordered.

With a great amount of struggle, Vernon Dursley pulled down a ladder that led to the attic of the house and started to climb it. Heinrich was amazed that the rungs on the ladder didn't break under the man's weight. He must have weighed the same amount as a small whale.

Only when Heinrich heard a window opening did he return to the master bedroom where his last victim was waiting. He entered the room in time to see a heavy object fall outside of the bedroom window and heard the resounding thud that was Vernon Dursley landing on the concrete driveway. The woman screeched in horror but couldn't move.

Heinrich removed the body-binding curse on the woman but quickly cast another spell. "Incarcerous," he announced and watched as ropes spurted from his wand to wrap around the woman's body. He directed the ropes up toward her neck and watched as she struggled to free herself. With his thoughts in control of the spell, her struggles would do nothing but hurt her. The more she struggled, the tighter the ropes would pull. If she struggled long enough, the ropes around her neck would suffocate her.

Feeling sweat dripping down his forehead, Heinrich removed his mask to wipe it away. He wasn't sure why he was sweating but he had a feeling that it was because he had cast two power draining curses in quick succession. The Imperius curse and the Killing curse took a lot of mental effort and raw magic to be cast successfully, he had learned from the Lestranges and Lord Voldemort. That was part of the reason Lord Voldemort was so feared. He was known for casting as many as twenty Cruciatus and Killing curses in a single hour without even breaking a sweat.

"No," the woman gasped when she saw his face. "You!"

Heinrich blinked in surprise, returning his attention to the woman. She knew him?

"Please, Harry," the woman begged. "Don't do this."

Harry? His name wasn't Harry.

"Avada Kedavra," Heinrich said. He didn't want to hear any cries for mercy or be called by any false names. Once he was certain that the woman was dead, he used the ropes that had been strangling her to hang her body from the hanging light in the room. He left the dead son where he was and put his mask back on.

* * *

Lord Voldemort felt a cruel smile creep onto his lips as he watched Heinrich emerge from the house from a distance. The boy paused in the driveway, next to the large figure that had been his uncle, and the Dark Lord recognized the green flash of light that came from the boy's wand. The wards fell and the Dark Lord began his approach.

"Is it done?" he demanded. Heinrich nodded.

"It is, my lord," the teen said but Lord Voldemort could hear some hesitancy in his voice.

"Did anything go wrong?" the man demanded and Heinrich just shook his head.

"The woman just said something odd," he said. "But it was nothing important."

"What did she say?" Lord Voldemort demanded. The teen paused until he saw the Dark Lord raise his wand in a silent threat.

"She called me Harry," he said. "Though I don't know why because that's not my name."

Lord Voldemort remained silent.

"We're going back to the manor," he said. "But first, I need your arm."

Heinrich held out his right arm and watched carefully as the Dark Lord rolled up the sleeve of his robe.

"Morsmorde," the reptilian-like man hissed as he pointed his wand on the skin. Heinrich bit his lower lip as pain shot through his right arm. A smoky green sigil began to rise in the sky and Heinrich knew instantly that this was the rumored Dark Mark that all Death Eaters were capable of casting. The Dark Mark rose above Number Four Privet Drive but the Dark Lord wasn't finished yet. He pressed his wand against Heinrich's wrist, summoning the one man he had conveniently not summoned until this point in time.

"We're leaving now," Lord Voldemort announced once he had completed the summons. He didn't give Heinrich a chance to reply before they were apparating away, back to the safety of Malfoy Manor.

* * *

Severus Snape hissed in surprise as he felt the pain of the summons in his arm. His dark eyes widened. Breakfast wasn't finished yet. It was much earlier than he had anticipated.

The Potions professor glanced over at Albus, who was watching him with guarded eyes. The dark-haired man nodded once before standing and striding out of the Great Hall. Albus would follow in a few minutes, to send Patronus messages to the Order members that were on call.

"So early?" the elderly man asked as they met up a few minutes later.

"The Dark Lord has never been one to do what others expect of him," Severus replied before apparating away. He had to arrive first, not with the rest of the Order. He didn't think that the Dark Lord would appreciate that blatant declaration of allegiance.

The dark-haired man cursed as he saw the Dark Mark high in the sky. He had been summoned too late and he knew the reason why. The Dark Lord had known that he would bring the Order with him. The spy remained in the shadows, watching the Death Eaters go after the defenseless Muggles and couldn't help but notice that there were two important faces that were missing from the crowd of Death Eaters. He couldn't see the red mask of the unnamed Death Eater anywhere and Lord Voldemort's unmasked face was nowhere to be found. So they had gone, if they had even come to begin with.

Severus Snape heard the telltale sounds of the Order of the Phoenix members apparating into the neighborhood. He wondered what they would think of this scene. Rarely had they seen anything as gruesome as what this raid was sure to be. Normally Death Eaters went after specified Muggle families, not entire neighborhoods. He was sure the death toll would be staggering.

Dark eyes widened in surprise as he saw Albus apparate straight onto the driveway of Number Four Privet Drive but Severus took that as his cue to leave. He wasn't truly needed and he didn't want to risk displaying any allegiances to either side. It wasn't safe and if anything important was discovered, Albus would tell him later.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore's eyes saddened at the sight of Vernon Dursley lying on the driveway. The man had clearly fallen, or jumped, before being put out of his misery. The headmaster of Hogwarts had been around long enough to recognize the signs of the Killing curse, even when it was hidden behind other injuries.

The Dark Mark was above Number Four and that could only mean one thing. The rest of the Dursley family was dead. Albus was thankful he had removed Harry's possessions weeks ago, when it was first discovered that the boy was missing. It prevented Tom Riddle from getting his hands on anything important, such as the boy's invisibility cloak or his wand.

Dumbledore was unsurprised to find Petunia and Dudley Dursley dead within one of the bedrooms. He cut down the woman and laid her body on the bed before levitating her son to rest next to her.

Who had done this? Which Death Eater had gotten through his wards?

To answer his question, Albus cast a spell to determine the magical signature of the killer. His eyes widened when the results came back. No, that wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.

The headmaster stormed through every room of the house but he could only find one magical signature, the same as the killer's. It was off, but Albus suspected it was because the killer hadn't used his true wand. How could he, when the owner of the magical signature's wand was sitting in Albus's office?

However, the signature was clear enough that it could be no one else.

Albus rubbed his temples, trying to figure out what to do. Of everything he had expected, it certainly hadn't been that.

The headmaster apparated back to Hogwarts before his presence would be missed. He certainly had a lot to think about now.

* * *

The woman's comments hadn't left Heinrich's mind since he had left the raid. Why had she called him Harry?

"You're thinking too loud," the Dark Lord grumbled, glaring at the teen, who flinched.

"My apologies," he said quietly. "It's nothing, just that woman…I don't understand her comments."

"She was a Muggle," the Dark Lord snapped. "Put her out of your mind. She's dead now."

"But why would she call me Harry?" Heinrich asked. "It wouldn't matter so much but she seemed to know me and I couldn't remember her."

"She was begging for her life," Lord Voldemort sneered. "Muggles, especially female ones, will say anything to try and save their life. They don't know how to accept death honorably like wizards and witches. They'll try and make you have doubts about your actions but you should never falter."

"I never will," Heinrich promised. "Would she have known about my memories being lost, though? To try and play on that?"

"How would I know?" the Dark Lord snarled. "Put her out of your mind. We're done talking about this."

Heinrich watched as the Dark Lord stormed off before sighing and shaking his head. He made his way back to his quarters silently, trying his best to forget about that woman. However, he couldn't forget her last words.

Why had she called him Harry? Why did that name sound familiar?

* * *

After the Halloween feast had passed, Severus approached Albus. He had sensed something had been on the man's mind all night, something to do with the raid that morning.

"What did you discover?" he asked. For a long time, Albus was silent. Severus watched the man's face. Dumbledore didn't often reveal much but his weary face at least told Severus Snape that something was severely wrong.

"The Dursley family is dead," the headmaster finally said. Severus raised an eyebrow. That was it? He had already suspected as much when he had saw the Dark Mark.

"I tried to identify the magical signature of the killer," Dumbledore continued after placing a lemon drop in his mouth. "However, there was only one magical signature that I could find."

"Whose was it?" Severus asked.

"Harry's," Dumbledore said quietly. Professor Snape blinked and his dark eyes widened.

"Harry Potter?" he asked. Albus nodded.

"It was the only one in the house," he explained. "And it wasn't the residual magic that would come with living in the house since he was a child. The magical signature was recent and it had been twisted with Dark magic."

"What are you saying, Albus," Severus asked quietly. Dumbledore sighed.

"I fear that Harry Potter himself killed his relatives," he said. Severus Snape swallowed nervously at that news. What did that mean for the rest of the magical community? For the entire world?

After meeting with Albus, Snape knew that he should go to the Dark Lord and try to attain any information that he could about the Dursleys' death. He knew that Little Whinging had been targeted for a reason now.

"Severus," Lord Voldemort hissed in pleasure upon seeing him. The Potions master kept his eyes trained on the floor. "What brings you here?"

"The old man is investigating into the deaths of some of the Muggles," Severus said quietly. "Among the deaths he is investigating are the deaths of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, along with their son Dudley. Those are the Muggles that raised Harry Potter."

"So they are dead," the Dark Lord said. He didn't sound surprised to hear the news but Severus hadn't expected that he would. "What does that matter to the old man?"

"He is attempting to find their killer," Severus explained. "With the Dursleys dead, he can no longer send the boy to live with relatives."

"He can't even find the boy," Lord Voldemort reminded him. If Severus had looked up, he would have seen a glimmer of amusement in Voldemort's red eyes. "What else?"

Severus swallowed nervously. "He could only find Potter's magical signature in the house," he said. "He believes that this means that Harry Potter has killed his own relatives."

"He wouldn't be the first," Lord Voldemort remarked and reached his hand out to Nagini, who had slithered into the room. Severus Snape glanced up in surprise. His dark eyes widened when he took note of the knowing gleam in the Dark Lord's eyes.

"Is it true?" he asked. "Harry Potter did kill his relatives?"

Severus should have known that his questions would bring on the Cruciatus curse. Accustomed to being under the curse, he managed to stay on his feet and not cry out, though his fists did clench together and he nearly fell to his knees.

"Leave us," the Dark Lord ordered. "Unless you have any more useful information."

Severus shook his head and fled the manor. Sometimes the things that people refused to say revealed more than what they actually did say. It was now clear to Severus that the Dark Lord knew exactly where Harry Potter was and had plans for the boy other than killing him.


	12. Chapter 12

"Why a snake?"

Lord Voldemort glanced up from his plans to look at the teen with a raised brow. Heinrich shrugged. He knew his question was random, especially after hours of silence, but he had been wondering about it for a few days. After staring at the heading of countless documents, it was only natural that the question would pop up.

"Why did you choose a snake as your symbol?" Heinrich questioned. "I can sort of understand the skull but the snake…"

"It is the symbol of Slytherin house in Hogwarts," Lord Voldemort remarked. "It originated with Salazar Slytherin himself." His tone informed the teen that Heinrich should have already known that answer.

"But why did Slytherin choose a snake?" Heinrich pushed. "What were the reasons behind any of the founders' choices?"

"I cannot say nor do I have any interest in the other three founders' reasoning but Salazar Slytherin chose a snake because he was a parselmouth, a gift that was rare both then and now."

"Parselmouth?" Heinrich questioned.

"He could speak to snakes," Lord Voldemort explained, irritation flashing in his red eyes at all of the sudden questions. "Just like I am able to. I am a direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin and inherited the ability."

Heinrich wondered if he should inform the man that he could hear Nagini's whisperings sometimes as the large snake passed through the halls of Malfoy Manor. Did that mean he was a parselmouth too?

Deciding to keep his silence, Heinrich turned back to the documents he was reading, idly noting that this had been one of the few conversations with the Dark Lord where he hadn't been hexed or cursed. Such conversations weren't common but recently they seemed to be increasing in number. Was that a sign that the Dark Lord was becoming more accustomed to his presence?

He would just continue to test the newly forged grounds between the two.

* * *

A few days later, Heinrich worked up the courage to ask another question that had been on his mind. It was the first opportunity he had had, since the Dark Lord had been in a horrible mood since their last conversation.

"This war has been going on for a while, even if you don't count the roughly thirteen years of relative peace."

"What's your point," the Dark Lord growled, pushing away his papers and glaring at the boy. His anger was further incensed when he realized that the teen didn't flinch or quiver under his glare. He would have to fix that but not now.

"It's a rather long time," Heinrich pointed out. "What's kept you motivated for long? I can only imagine that hatred lasts so long."

"You know nothing of hatred," the Dark Lord sneered. "Hatred has consumed many a person's life, not letting them rest until they get revenge or they die in their quest."

"Fair enough," Heinrich said. "But that doesn't seem to be the case for you. So what keeps you motivated?"

"You wouldn't understand," Lord Voldemort hissed. "You couldn't even begin to understand."

"I'd like to try," Heinrich said, surprising the Dark Lord as well as himself with his honesty. "I'll be by your side for a long time hopefully and I'd like to try."

The Dark Lord surged to his feet, a curse at the tip of his wand. Heinrich's green eyes blinked at him, absent of any type of fear. The lack of fear made Lord Voldemort hesitate on fully releasing his curse on the boy.

Without a word, the Dark Lord stormed out of the study. Heinrich watched him go silently and briefly relieved, only letting out a muffled cry when he was surprised by a cutting curse aimed at his torso. He turned his body slightly to the side to deflect the most damaging part of the curse. His arm would bleed a lot less than his chest and stomach.

Lord Voldemort didn't summon Heinrich for his lessons the next day. The teen wondered if he had crossed the line but he could only assume that he hadn't completely crossed it seeing as he was still alive.

The Dark Lord didn't know what he was doing anymore. He wanted to storm the boy's room and curse him until he was an inch away from death for daring to ask such a personal question. He barely fought the urge to cast the Cruciatus curse over and over on the boy until he was lying on the ground, chest heaving, unable to breathe. He needed to see those green eyes widen in fear and pain, black pupils dilated, needed to make the teen bite his lips in order to hold back his screams until he no longer could, leaving his throat raw and his lips swollen and bleeding.

Just imagining the sight made him hum in pleasure. It was only when he realized just how much pleasure the picture created did Lord Voldemort turn his thoughts to something else.

The next day Heinrich returned to his lessons. Neither he nor Lord Voldemort said a word about what had happened two days before. To Heinrich it seemed like the Dark Lord had plans to ignore and forget that that afternoon had even existed. It would be just like Heinrich had never said anything.

It was how he had hoped the situation would go. However, the Dark Lord's eyes never seemed to leave his face.

At first Heinrich could ignore the red eyes watching his every move but it was nearly impossible not to forget about it after nearly two hours had passed. Heinrich had tried to keep himself busy to ignore the sensation of being watched but as the two hour mark passed, he could no longer just ignore it.

"What is it?" he demanded. "What do you want?"

A yell tore from the teen's throat as his body was tossed from the chair. He felt the familiar fire of the Cruciatus curse tear through his veins. When the pain faded, Heinrich noted the blood dripping down his cheek. He had bashed his head on the desk when he had tumbled from his chair.

Voldemort looked at the boy on the ground and hissed in rage when he still saw no fear in the boy's eyes. When had things changed? When had the boy stopped fearing him? Even the respectful fear had been better than this absence of fear.

"I would normally kill someone for talking to me in that way," he informed the boy coldly.

"I know," Heinrich murmured.

"I could kill you."

"You would have every right."

The Dark Lord growled and kicked over a chair. Even with the threat of death looming above the boy's head, there was still no flash of fear.

"Why aren't you afraid?" he demanded. Heinrich gave a small cough as he tried to sit up. He was knocked flat by the Dark Lord's foot and coughed again.

"I don't know," the teen stated. "Maybe I realized that there was no point in watching my words or being afraid. You could kill me at any time and there would be nothing I could do. No matter where I would run to try and escape death, you would be able to find me and kill me. You marked me for life after all."

A scream tore from the boy's throat as he was placed under the Cruciatus curse again but much to the Dark Lord's fury, there was still no glimpse of fear.

"Such insolence," he hissed.

"Apologies, my lord," Heinrich gasped. The Dark Lord stared down at the boy before turning on his heel and walking away. The sight was too appealing and he didn't' want to lose control. He had already lost enough control as it was. Heinrich watched him go from the corner of his eye. Only when he was sure that the man was gone did he sit up.

"Libby?" he croaked. The house elf appeared in the room. She took one look at him before disappearing again. Libby returned within seconds, carrying a glass of water and a few cloths.

"Young sir is being injured," she noted.

"The Dark Lord doesn't often appreciate my need for conversation," Heinrich remarked dryly, taking the glass of water from the house elf. The coolness felt marvelous as it slid down his parched throat.

"The Dark Lord is not often meeting people like young sir," Libby explained. "He is not knowing how to react."

"He wants me to be afraid of him, like everyone else," Heinrich told her. The house elf's eyes widened.

"Young sir is not being afraid of the Dark Lord?" she asked in a whisper. Heinrich stared at the water in the glass.

"I should be," he said. "But for some reason I'm not anymore."

"The Dark Lord will not be liking that," Libby remarked. Heinrich gave her a bitter smile before draining the glass of water.

"No, he isn't," he said. "But he has to learn to deal with it or kill me. I don't think he has many other options."

* * *

Heinrich stared at the snow on the ground in faint disgust. It was snowing for the fourth day in a row and it looked like it would be turning into a blizzard. There was no doubt about it. It would definitely be a white Christmas and he would be trapped inside the manor with nowhere else to go.

He hadn't minded it, the first few months. However, once it started snowing, the cabin fever had set in. Now Heinrich grew more and more restless with every day he remained at the manor.

He wished that he could go somewhere else, if only for a few hours. Heinrich would love it if he were able to go back to the pack and see his mother. They had exchanged a few letters with Libby's help but he wanted to see her face and actually talk to her. He wouldn't to be sure that she was safe and unharmed.

One mistake. That would be all it would take. If Heinrich did something that severely angered the Dark Lord or if Fenrir Greyback got it into his head that the boy was shaming him and the pack, Saskia would be dead within minutes.

' _She didn't deserve it'_. Heinrich sighed as he continued to brood.

" _Too drafty,"_  he heard a hiss.  _"One would think that with all the work that was put into this place, they would do a better job at insulating the walls and heating the floor."_

Heinrich stepped away from the doorway, getting out of Nagini's path. The large snake had grown more irritable over the past few weeks, ever since the cold weather had started setting in.

The green-eyed teen had long grown accustomed to hearing Nagini's hissing, though he had yet to mention to Lord Voldemort that he could understand her mutterings. However, every time he heard her, he couldn't help but wonder. Was he a parselmouth like Salazar Slytherin and Lord Voldemort? That would mean that he was a direct descendent of the Slytherin line most likely and that didn't set well with him. He came from a family of werewolves. A snake didn't seem to fit him.

Nagini spotted Heinrich and hissed, raising her head. Her dark round eyes met green human ones.

" _A strange one,"_  she remarked before continuing her journey to find someplace warmer. Heinrich held back a small smile. He supposed he was strange. As he turned away, the teen cast a warming charm at Nagini. He wasn't sure if her scales would deflect the magic but he hoped that the gesture would at least be appreciated.

Nagini rose up again in surprise at feeling the warmth pass over her but the boy who had cast the spell was long out of sight. The snake halted her path and reveled in the heat for a few minutes, flicking her tongue out once again. Yes, that young human was definitely a strange one, much like her lord had been when he was a child.

There were many similarities between the two but Voldemort didn't want to hear about it. He always refused to listen.

* * *

Heinrich lay in bed after his lessons one night, thinking. Things were slowly but surely changing between him and the Dark Lord. He hadn't noticed the extent of the changes until today and he was starting to wonder if the other Death Eaters had noticed. He was sure Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had, since they lived in the manor and were around the pair every single day. They were also much more perceptive than Heinrich, which only increased Heinrich's certainty.

The other inner circle Death Eaters, however…Heinrich doubted Bellatrix Lestrange was aware. The woman was highly territorial and possessive over the Dark Lord when the man wasn't around and she hadn't made any attempts on Heinrich's life. It was probably safe to say that she didn't know. There was also the option to consider that she knew and didn't care but Heinrich doubted that. The woman couldn't help but care when her lord was involved.

Heinrich only wished that the other Death Eaters were as easily to read as Bellatrix Lestrange. The others had perfected wearing a face that revealed nothing even to their closest confidants. He had often wondered how the Dark Lord was able to know so much about them and had finally asked this afternoon.

"How do you do it?" he had asked. Lord Voldemort glanced at him in faint confusion.

"Do what?" the man had growled.

"You always seem to know when the Death Eaters are keeping something from you or making plans without you. How? I highly doubt you have informants among your Death Eaters, since I've never seen them enter the manor. I always just see the ones that are supposed to update you on the Ministry of Magic's actions."

"Legilimency," the Dark Lord replied.

"Mind reading?" Heinrich asked in surprise. Lord Voldemort snarled at the term.

"Never call it that again," he ordered. "That's a Muggle term and it gives no respect to the art of Legilimency."

"Well, if it's not mind-reading, what is it?" Heinrich asked, almost petulantly.

"The mind contains many layers," Lord Voldemort began to explain. "Thoughts are only one layer. The mind also controls emotions, such as fear and desire, and feelings, such as pain. Those are just the very basics of the human mind. It doesn't include such things like memories and futures. One can study the human mind for their entire life and only touch on a fraction of the layers within it."

"Futures?" Heinrich asked. He could understand things such as emotions and memories, but he had never heard of anything called futures.

"Some people believe in fate and destiny, while others believe in free will," Lord Voldemort sneered. "However, those who study the art of Legilimency usually believe in futures."

"But what are they?" Heinrich yelped as he was hit with a stinging hex, a not so subtle reminder that he was beginning to sound disrespectful.

"Futures take into account every decision we make and every decision we have the option to make," Voldemort explained. "And each decision we make sets us on a new path that we have the option to continue on or to get off. There is no one set future. There are multiple futures that can be altered at any given moment, not by just your decisions but also by the decisions of others. The mind has the ability to recognize some of the more important decisions in our lives and will periodically bring them to the forefront of our thoughts."

"For example?"

"Everyone at some point or another will probably imagine falling in love or getting married. Those aren't just daydreams like many people believe. Our mind is giving us an idea of what one of our futures can be like if we decide to follow that path. It has to be an active decision however. One cannot meet a future partner at a pub if one never goes to pubs."

"So we have the choice to make any one of those futures come true," Heinrich stated. Lord Voldemort sneered at the simplicity of the statement. This was how he had been able to penetrate the boy's mind in the previous year. The boy had the tendency to simplify things that could not be simplified.

"Legilimency requires navigating those different layers. To influence someone, one must find their way to the right layer, the right part of the mind. Once there, the person performing Legilimency must interpret the findings there, which is not always so cut and dry. The human mind differs depending on the person. While one may think in words, others think in pictures or numbers. One may think in a straight line while others follow patterns and even more have no steady line of thought. Once inside the mind, the person performing Legilimency must alter their strategy depending on the person's mind."

"It sounds complicated," Heinrich stated. Lord Voldemort nodded with a sneer.

"Ninety-five percent of those that attempt Legilimency will end up going mad or dying because they cannot take being in another's mind," he said. "One should understand the art before attempting to penetrate someone's mind and it is a rare occasion when someone actually takes the time to learn and understand. Many think like you do—that's it's simply reading the mind."

Lord Voldemort stared at the boy.

"Never attempt Legilimency," he ordered. Heinrich bristled at the order but kept his mouth shut. "You would surely die. You would not have the patience or the delicacy to manage someone's mind. Even the smallest attempt would probably rip the victim's mind to shreds and there's no telling what it would do to you."

It had been an interesting conversation, Heinrich mused. He had been more interested in the discussion about futures than the actual explanation of Legilimency. The concept of futures seemed to be a mix of destiny and free will, something he hadn't even believed was possible. It suggested that the future could be changed at any moment, not only by oneself but also by the decisions of others. Nothing was set in stone unless one chose it to be.

"Libby?" Heinrich called. The house elf popped in.

"The young sir is needing something?" she asked.

"I just had a question," Heinrich admitted. "I can understand if you can't or don't want to answer it."

"Libby will be trying her best to answer young sir's question," the house elf said.

"What do house elves believe about the future?" Heinrich asked. "Do they believe in destiny or free choice?" Libby looked startled at his question and Heinrich realized that one had probably never taken the time to actually ask what house elves believed.

"House elves is being born to work and will work until they die," Libby said. "If house elves are being good, then they will be serving the same family until they die. House elves is not having time to be thinking of the future. Instead, we is always thinking about work and what is needing to be done."

"What about when all the work is done?" Heinrich asked. Libby shook her head, causing her ears to flop against the side of her head.

"House elves' work is never being done," she explained. "Once things is clean, they is being dirtied almost immediately again. Cleaning is never being done and house elves is never stopping their work."

"Not even to sleep or eat?" Heinrich asked.

"House elves eat while we is cooking," Libby said. "And house elves is not needing sleep."

Green eyes blinked in surprise.

"You don't sleep?" he asked. "Seriously?" Libby nodded.

"Is young sir having any more questions for Libby?" she asked. Heinrich shook his head, still in disbelief. He hadn't realized that house elves didn't sleep. Libby disappeared, leaving Heinrich to stare at where she used to be.

"House elves don't sleep," the teen muttered. "That's pretty amazing."

The fact was still on his mind the next afternoon and he couldn't help but bring it up.

"Did you know that house elves don't sleep?" Heinrich asked. "That they're physically incapable of sleeping?"

Voldemort glanced at him in annoyance.

"Yes, I was aware," he said and attempted to return to his paperwork.

"It's pretty impressive when you think about it. How much work do you imagine we could get done if we didn't sleep?"

"More than what's getting done right now," Lord Voldemort muttered.

"Are they born not being able to sleep or does it just happen when they start working?"

His question was met with a loud sigh.

"House elves aren't born," Lord Voldemort snapped. "They are created through magic. When a house or building is built through magic and there's enough power behind the magic, house elves are created using that power. The magic that created them is tied to that specific house and is typically transferred to a person or family. The magic is what ensures the loyalty and obedience to a certain person, place, or family."

"But—" Heinrich yelped as he was hit with a stinging hex. The Dark Lord made a pointed attempt to return to his paperwork in hopes that the teen would get his message. Heinrich sighed. This conversation was done.


	13. Chapter 13

As the months of November and December passed and as the snow piled up on the ground, Heinrich began to grow restless. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually stepped foot outside and was horrified when he realized that it hadn't been since his first raid on Halloween.

Nearly two months. He hadn't even touched the snow this year. It didn't seem right.

That was why instead of going to his morning lessons, he went outside. It was Christmas morning, anyway. He deserved the chance.

Lucius Malfoy cursed under his breath when he heard the wards around the manor walls going off. Luckily it wasn't the alarms, which told him that the perimeter hadn't been breached. It was just the wards letting them know that someone had gone outside.

It was the person who had gone outside that was the cause for concern. Since Lucius and Narcissa had been taking breakfast with Lord Voldemort when the wards went off, there was only one other person that it could be.

Heinrich Beltz, aka Harry Potter.

The Dark Lord rose from his seat before Lucius could, his face contorted in fury. Lucius nearly felt bad for the boy, as he hadn't seen the Dark Lord that angry for a while. There would surely be pain for the teen once the Dark Lord tracked him down.

Voldemort found the boy in the Malfoy rose gardens, which were now covered in snow. There were a few rose bushes that bloomed in the winter weather, encouraged to grow and adapt with various spells and charms. The boy looked amazed to see them, fingering the blossoms gently.

"What are you doing?" the Dark Lord hissed. Heinrich turned in surprise.

"I wanted to come outside," he said. "I haven't been outside since Halloween."

"Get inside the manor, now," Voldemort demanded. He hissed in fury when the teen refused to obey.

"In a few minutes," Heinrich replied. "I'm not going anywhere, I just want to feel the fresh air."

The teen didn't buckle under the force of the Cruciatus curse the Dark Lord threw at him. He bit his lip to prevent crying out in surprise, but he was proud to say that he managed to stay on his feet. Only half of the inner circle members could currently make that claim.

"Get inside," the Dark Lord ordered again, this time an actual hiss coloring his words. Heinrich stared at him but refused to look defeated.

"Please," he asked, stepping closer to the Dark Lord. He refused to look away from Voldemort's red eyes. Usually he did so in order to show the man that he still wasn't afraid but this time it was different. This morning, he was captured by the red gaze.

"A few more minutes?" Heinrich heard himself ask.

"No," Lord Voldemort refused. "Go inside now and you may just get lucky."

Lucky? What did that even mean?

"No," Heinrich whispered. He would refuse to give in and go back inside. Not after months of staying indoors. He wasn't going to give up that opportunity that easily.

Lord Voldemort hissed and started to raise his wand but before he could and before Heinrich was aware of what he was doing, he took one step forward and brought his lips upward to meet the Dark Lord's.

Heinrich barely had the chance to taste the coolness of Voldemort's thin lips before he was thrown backward. He skidded through the snow and nearly crashed into the rose bushes as he was pushed toward the ground. Before he had time to register what was happening, the icy fire of the Cruciatus curse was racing through his nerves and veins. He bit his lip at the pain, something that was now a reflex.

The Dark Lord stared at the boy sprawled on the snowy grounds. The boy's dark hair and red cheeks contrasted against the pure white of the ground. The blood dripping from the boy's lip and the pain that flared in his green eyes made for an appealing sight.

"My apologies," Heinrich muttered when the pain had stopped but the Dark Lord had already stormed away.

As soon as the teen became aware of the snow underneath him and the cold moisture seeping into his robes, Heinrich rose and stumbled inside Malfoy Manor. He sighed as the warmth instantly greeted him but he didn't pause at the entrance. Instead, he made his way toward his quarters where he summoned Libby to get rid of his wet clothes and replace them with something dry and warm.

He didn't leave his quarters for the rest of the day.

Heinrich would have refused to leave his quarters the next day but Libby informed him that the Dark Lord ordered his presence in the man's study. Since it was mid-morning, Heinrich knew that the man was aware that he hadn't gone to his lessons.

In silent dismay, the teen made his way toward the Dark Lord's study, dragging his feet as he walked through the hallways. He felt as if he was going to his execution and it was then that he realized that he very well might be.

How many other Death Eaters would have done what he did? Probably none. Heinrich could very easily believe that if there were Death Eaters who had, they hadn't lived to tell the tale.

"Start explaining," the Dark Lord ordered before Heinrich was even fully in the room. He stared at the boy and blinked when he saw a flicker of something in the boy's green eyes. Was that fear? Was the boy finally afraid after months of nothing?

"I wish I could, my lord," the boy replied. "Once again I apologize for my actions."

"I don't want apologies," the Dark Lord hissed. "I want explanations."

"I cannot give any, my lord," Heinrich said.

"Tell me why," Lord Voldemort ordered. Heinrich sighed in slight frustration.

"I don't know," he said. "I can't give you any explanations because I honestly don't know. I don't know what happened yesterday. How can I when I barely know what's happened my whole life? I feel like I don't know anything, so how can you expect me to fully know what I'm feeling?"

He had gone to far. Heinrich fell to his knees as the Cruciatus hit him full force. Try as hard as he might, he couldn't help but release a small cry of pain. His shields were quickly falling because of the events yesterday morning and it was making him do things that he normally refused to do.

Voldemort stared at the boy. So he was confused. He could work that to his advantage. If he could twist the boy's emotions, make him think that he cared about the boy, he could ensure that the teen would stay at his side no matter what.

Bellatrix wouldn't be happy but she had never had any sort of claim over the Dark Lord. Besides, it wouldn't have been the first time the Dark Lord had done something similar. It had never been to the extent that he was planning and he certainly hadn't done so since his resurrection but Lord Voldemort was fully accustomed to making people believe that he cared. It didn't matter if it was for a night or if it was for a long length of time. It was practically the same thing.

"Get out," he ordered idly. Heinrich got to his feet and stumbled out of the room. He paused, resting on the doorframe, resisting the urge to flinch under the Dark Lord's red glare.

"Are we just going to forget that yesterday ever happened?" he asked. The older man sneered at him.

"You'll just have to see."

Heinrich stared at the man. That was neither confirmation nor denial. The teen wanted to scream in frustration and demand answers but he felt that he was lucky to be leaving still alive. He didn't want to push his luck any further. There had already been a close call when he had started ranting and shouting at the man.

Instead, Heinrich pushed himself away from the doorframe and started stumbling back toward his quarters. As he walked, his legs began to steady and he no longer had to put all of his focus on remaining standing.

What had the Dark Lord meant that he would have to see? Was the man admitting to having similar emotions? Or that he would just forget that something had happened between the two of them?

As much as it would be safer for Heinrich if the Dark Lord forgot about the events of Christmas morning—Bellatrix would surely come after him if she ever found out—he really didn't want to act like the whole incident was forgotten. He wanted to figure out what he was feeling and he wanted to be sure if he was really feeling an emotional attachment to the Dark Lord.

Well, he would just have to wait and see.

Heinrich growled to himself as he realized that his thoughts had mirrored what Lord Voldemort had already said.

* * *

For the next few days, things progressed as normal. Heinrich got up, had lessons in dueling, spells, and politics starting at dawn until lunch, and then after lunch he would stick by the Dark Lord's side and do whatever was commanded of him.

When nothing happened after the first few days, Heinrich started to believe that it meant things had been forgotten. It allowed his mind some sense of relief but he was still disappointed. He had truly started to believe that he could form a special relationship with the Dark Lord, a relationship that no other Death Eaters could lay claim to. It didn't matter that he was already in a position that hadn't existed before he came along. He would have liked even more assurance that he stood out.

The day before New Year's Eve, all of Heinrich's thoughts and assumptions about the brief kiss being forgotten disappeared.

It was nearing the time when Heinrich would turn in for the night. That night had been one of the occasional ones where the Dark Lord had summoned him to his office for more work instead of returning to his quarters for the night. It was becoming more and more common for Heinrich to return to the Dark Lord's study after dinner than return to his quarters.

As Heinrich watched the clock approach the next hour, he pointedly yawned to try and subtly get his point across. Judging from the Dark Lord's glare, he wasn't as subtle as he had hoped.

The boy yelped at the stinging hex that was sent in his direction.

"Don't try and control me," Lord Voldemort warned. "I can and will keep you here until dawn."

Heinrich didn't doubt it. He was beginning to suspect that the Dark Lord had tapped into the magic that created house elves and could no longer sleep. The man went to bed later than he did and was up hours before Heinrich would even consider waking up.

Lord Voldemort kept the boy in his study for another half an hour, silently waiting to see if the boy would say anything.

Heinrich didn't. His lack of protest made Voldemort incensed with anger. Since Christmas morning, the boy had become timid and withdrawn, keeping to himself and no longer daring to ask questions.

There was a time when Voldemort would have appreciated the silence. Now it enraged him.

Without warning, he flicked his wand and Heinrich's chair was pushed back against the wall. The teen's green eyes widened in surprise and he glanced at the Dark Lord that had gotten to his feet.

"What—" he started to demand before abruptly cutting himself off. Voldemort approached the boy, who watched him carefully. Something was going on and he knew that he couldn't even begin to understand the thoughts that were going on inside the Dark Lord's head.

Lord Voldemort waved his wand again and the chair holding the boy up disappeared. Heinrich dropped to the ground and hissed as his head was banged against the wall in the process. He rubbed the back of his head, further messing up his already messy dark hair and glared up at the man. Voldemort nearly hissed in pleasure as he began to see the anger flaring up in those green eyes. That was what he had wanted to see.

"What do you want?" Heinrich demanded, no longer able to keep silent. He let out a small cry as the older man grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. "What?" he asked again.

Green eyes widened as cool hands gripped his hair and yanked his head back, restricting his ability to breathe easily. They widened even further when he felt cold lips descend on his and Heinrich's mouth dropped open in surprise.

The Dark Lord took advantage of the opportunity and plundered his mouth, marveling at the fact that the boy didn't even try to fight for dominance over the kiss. For once, the teen submitted and allowed Voldemort to do as he wished, idly noting the forked tongue that was exploring his mouth. That certainly explained all of the hissing. The man was even more snakelike than he had imagined.

Heinrich had imagined that kisses would be wet and hot. It certainly was but the Dark Lord's cold, rough lips on his added and increased sensations that Heinrich never could have imagined.

The teen gasped in surprise as the man bit down on his lip, drawing blood, before pulling away. Lord Voldemort hissed in pleasure as he took in the swollen, bleeding lips and wide green eyes. He released the dark hair in his grip and the teen began drawing in deep breaths. His cheeks reddened at the effort and increase of air.

"Go to bed," the Dark Lord murmured. The teen stared at him for a few seconds in disbelief before silently obeying.

So things hadn't been forgotten, Heinrich mused as he made his way toward his quarters. He touched his still bleeding lip, wincing slightly at the tenderness. He would have to ask Libby to heal it for him once again.

Then a grin overcame Heinrich's face as it slowly hit him. The Dark Lord hadn't been content with ignoring the kiss on Christmas morning. There was a good chance that this wouldn't be a one-time thing.

It seemed kind of ridiculous for Heinrich to be as happy as it was but the teen was fine with ridiculous.

He was absolutely fine with it since this was the first time since losing his memories that he had been as happy as he currently was.

* * *

Heinrich cleared his throat in order to get Lord Voldemort's attention. He had been trying all afternoon to get the man's attention for more than a few seconds but he wasn't having any luck. The man would merely glance at him before returning to whatever it was what he was working on.

The lack of attention was driving the teen nuts. He had thought that things would change but the Dark Lord had seemed content with acting like the night before had never happened and that everything was normal.

Heinrich was fairly sure that he wouldn't be able to do the same.

It wasn't like he wanted to draw attention to what he was thinking and feeling, but he would have at least liked some acknowledgement. He wanted to scream, "Pay attention to me!" but he also knew that doing something like that would only make him seem like a child.

He could either say nothing and be ignored or he could act out like a child. Either way it seemed like he wouldn't be able to win.

The teen pushed the papers he was studying away from him and set his head down on the large desk. He wasn't aware of the red eyes that glared at him but he could easily distinguish the sensation of a stinging hex as it hit the back of his neck.

Heinrich raised his head and glared at the Dark Lord, who merely raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue working. The boy pouted but it went unseen as Lord Voldemort had returned to his own work.

A few hours later, Heinrich was getting ready to leave to get ready for dinner when the Dark Lord stopped him. The teen glared at the older man as he tried to move his feet but they were stuck to the ground by magic.

"What?" he demanded and tried not to grasp as the other man gripped his hair and forced him to look into Voldemort's red eyes.

"You would do well to remember that I am in control, not you," the man said in a cold voice. "If you want this to go further, it will be on my terms, not yours. I will decide if there's any kind of relationship or not."

Green eyes glared into red eyes.

"I thought that a relationship was based on the decision of two people, not one," he snarled and cried out when the man tugged his hair sharply.

"You've made it clear that you want a relationship," Voldemort informed the boy. "However, I still haven't made a decision. Therefore, you would do well to remember that I currently make all the decisions, including ones about any type of relationship."

There was a small voice in the back of Heinrich's head saying that the start of a relationship in that method and manner signified that there was no chance of a healthy relationship but Heinrich ignored that voice. He wanted to submit to his innermost desires, desires that weren't as rational as that voice in his head.

"Am I clear?" Voldemort asked and was pleased to see the boy give a small nod. The older of the two released Heinrich's hair and undid the jinx that kept his feet in place.

"Go get ready for dinner," he ordered. "Don't be late."

Heinrich glanced at the clock and inwardly started cursing. He had half the time he normally had. If he took a shower like he wanted, he would just barely make it to dinner on time. The teen ignored the chuckles of amusement as he started running.


	14. Chapter 14

The month of January was infuriating for Heinrich as he waited for any sign from the Dark Lord. Whenever he thought that he would receive one, the man would always back away and ignore him for a few days.

The teen was steadily getting annoyed with being treated like a toy. He was annoyed with the fact that whenever he was starting to get his hopes up, they would soon be dashed with disappointment and as soon as he was ready to give up, there would be a brief moment that would make him reconsider. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. He hated being dragged along and the fact that his mood for the day was so dependent on the whims of others. He just wanted a straight answer, any sort of sign that would tell him to either just give up or that there truly was going to be something in the future. He hated trailing behind the Dark Lord like a lovesick puppy, waiting for a look or some words that made him keep hanging on.

As much as he hated being toyed with, it didn't escape Heinrich's notice that things were starting to progress further.

It was hard not to notice as things hadn't exactly been gradual.

They hadn't reached the point of having sex, thankfully. They hadn't even taken off their clothes and Heinrich hadn't been allowed to touch and explore the man's body yet. The teenager was sure that once that happened, there was no way he would ever be able to give up hopes of having any sort of relationship with the Dark Lord.

The teen had been giddy for nearly a week when the man had moved further from kissing and had slipped a cold hand under his shirt. Heinrich had thrown his head back in silent pleasure as the man continued to plunder his mouth, the sensations and pleasure increasing as long fingers had attacked and toyed with his nipples, pinching, twisting, and flicking until Heinrich's thoughts were a jumbled, incoherent mess. He had gasped in delight as his shirt had been unbuttoned, allowing the cool air to brush over his skin.

However, he had ruined things by reaching for the Dark Lord's robes in order to do the same. As soon as the man had felt hands trying to pull open his robes, he had pulled away and stormed out of the office, ignoring Heinrich's pitiful whimpers of protest. After a few minutes, Heinrich had realized that the Dark Lord wasn't going to come back and had ordered Libby to fetch him a set of robes so he could return to his quarters for the night.

The same thing had happened a few weeks later when Voldemort's hands further explored Heinrich's body, going past his shirt and making their way down into his pants. The teen had thought that the cold hands would decrease his arousal but the sensation between cold and hot had only increased it. He hadn't been able to muffle his moans as the man stroked him but once again things stopped abruptly when Heinrich tried to do the same. The teen had been moments away from completion and he was sure that it was some sort of cruel punishment for the older man to pull away before he had finished. When Lord Voldemort had left the room and the door had swung shut, Heinrich had thrown a bottle of ink against the door in frustration before storming off to his quarters to finish things by himself.

When Heinrich realized that it was February and Valentine's Day was quickly approaching, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He didn't really expect for Lord Voldemort to do anything on that particular day but the man was known for doing the unexpected. Heinrich knew that he would no longer to separate himself from his feelings if something were to happen on Valentine's Day and he didn't want to risk that happening. He had to get away from the manor, if only for that day.

The afternoon before Valentine's Day, Heinrich announced his decision to Voldemort.

"I'm going to see the pack tomorrow," he said. "I want to see my mother." He had learned weeks ago that if he requested something, the request would be turned down. Making such a decision without asking first was risky but Heinrich felt it was his only way to get even a chance to leave the manor.

The Dark Lord sneered.

"You want to see her now? It's been months."

"Exactly," Heinrich replied. "As much as you hate it, I still have human emotions and I miss my mother. I'm going to see her."

"If you leave and come back having been bitten…" Voldemort let his threat dangle in the air. Heinrich nodded.

"I understand," he said. "I'll be back in time for my lessons the day after tomorrow."

Lord Voldemort knew the boy's true reasoning for leaving when he was but he would allow the boy this small victory. It wouldn't do any harm in the long run. He would still get what he desired—total control over the boy.

"Libby will be responsible for taking you there and bringing you back," the Dark Lord said. Heinrich nodded again before getting to his feet and striding out of the study to turn in for the night. Nothing had happened today, much to his relief, and tomorrow would give him some more time to sort out his emotions away from Lord Voldemort.

* * *

It was odd, being back among the pack. Even in six months, many of the children being raised by the pack had grown a significant amount and barely seemed to remember him.

Saskia had been surprised to see him at the door to the pack's manor and Fenrir had given him a dark look as they entered the kitchen for breakfast, but Heinrich could easily ignore the alpha's looks.

Heinrich supposed that in reality, things hadn't truly changed. He had just grown accustomed to life at Malfoy Manor and the people he dealt with there. Seeing so many people in one home was a bit overwhelming now, even though he had been used to it a few months ago.

"How long are you staying?" Saskia asked after breakfast had finished.

"Only until sometime tonight," Heinrich said. "I could only get away for the day."

"It's for the best," Saskia murmured. "The full moon is tomorrow and it wouldn't be safe for you to stay longer."

"I've gotten stronger," Heinrich said. "I'm pretty sure that I would be able to defend myself."

"It's better not to put that to the test, though. The Dark Lord would slaughter the pack if something happened to you."

Heinrich sighed at the mention of Lord Voldemort. He didn't doubt that the man would do just that. "No doubt," he grumbled. "Of course, he could also be in a mood where he couldn't care less if something happened to me. It's hard to tell sometimes."

Saskia fixed Heinrich with a stern look.

"You've been given a position of high honor," she informed him. "You should remember that and always respect the Dark Lord for giving you such a position. The children of werewolves normally don't get such an opportunity."

"How is it a position of honor?" Heinrich demanded. "I read and study papers all day. There's nothing honorable about it!"

"The Dark Lord has never allowed someone to be so close to him," Saskia said. "Not since his resurrection. There is a rumor that you will eventually become either his heir or his consort and that is definitely a position of honor. The duties may be dull but they must be done without complaint. Don't waste this opportunity."

Heinrich nodded, feeling chastised. His eyes narrowed in worry as he considered Saskia's comments. Heir? Consort? He hadn't realized that his position might lead to either position.

Consort would be more likely, Heinrich guessed. Being named heir suggested that the Dark Lord would eventually die and he knew the man had dedicated numerous years to studying to become immortal. He would hate such an implication.

With a blush, Heinrich also realized that becoming consort would be more likely based on current events. However, the title consort would suggest a relationship and Voldemort had done his best to try not to imply that there actually was any type of relationship. Heinrich was just a toy to be played with whenever the man desired.

And despite knowing this, Heinrich would always come back for more. As long as there was even an inkling that the Dark Lord desired him in any way, Heinrich wouldn't be able to say no.

The teen sighed. When had things become so complicated? He was slowly going mad with all of the thoughts that were constantly running through his head. He hated second-guessing and doubting himself and his actions and now he had even more reason to.

Saskia pushed back his hair and tried to arrange the strands so they didn't look so messy.

"Nothing has to happen now," she said. "And I doubt any decisions would be made now. There are still plenty of years ahead and I believe that the Dark Lord wouldn't make any decisions until the war is over with."

The war. Heinrich had been so isolated that he had nearly forgotten that the wizarding world was in the midst of a war. He wasn't affected by it at Malfoy Manor and that allowed him to easily forget about such things, despite being in the presence of one of the leaders of the war daily.

"How are things progressing?" he asked. "I haven't heard much."

The Death Eaters as a whole group hadn't been summoned for weeks. Only small groups had been summoned to hold the occasional raid and Heinrich never attended those debriefings. Voldemort didn't think that he needed to know the details and Heinrich wasn't sure if he wanted to know what was actually happening.

"Many of the followers of Albus Dumbledore believe that all werewolf packs follow Lord Voldemort. Therefore, whenever they encounter a werewolf, we are attacked, even if we were behaving peacefully. I haven't left the grounds of the manor since the new year," Saskia admitted. "There was a reason that I never took control of your dueling lessons and that's because I was never much of a fighter."

Heinrich let out a low growl and his hands clenched into fists. He focused on the pain that his nails created by digging into his palms for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and relaxing.

"Is that it?" he asked. Saskia shook her head.

"The Ministry of Magic has placed even more restrictions on our kind," she stated with a frown. "They demand that all werewolves be registered and that all female werewolves be sterilized. If they come across someone that is not, especially a female, they will force sterilization and then send them to Azkaban."

"But the virus isn't passed on genetically!" Heinrich shouted in outrage. "What's the point of doing something like that if it's not passed on genetically?"

"Most are too ignorant to know and never bother to research it," Saskia explained. "As for the others, they don't care. It's just another way to control us and to remind us that we're different and not accepted."

"It's not fair," Heinrich raged. Saskia rolled her dark eyes.

"Of course it's not," she said. "But life isn't fair."

"Doesn't the Dark Lord know?" Heinrich demanded. "Can't he have his people in the Ministry do something about the restrictions?"

A figure leaning against the door snorted, making his presence known.

"Why would he do something like that?" Gunther asked coldly. "He doesn't care about the plight of werewolves. He just makes promises that he doesn't intend on fulfilling to keep us at his side like loyal pets."

Heinrich growled at the insult.

"Gunther," Saskia snapped. "That's your lord you're talking about."

"My master, you mean," Gunther sneered. "And Saskia, you should know that he's not going to do anything. He hasn't done anything yet so what makes you think that he will in the future?"

"He'll follow through on his promises," Heinrich snapped. "I'll make sure of it."

Gunther raised an eyebrow and gave the younger teen a mocking look.

"How?" he asked. "You can't make him do anything, not even by spreading your legs for him like you've been trying to do for weeks."

Green eyes widened.

"How-?" he demanded. Gunther gave a cruel laugh.

"I can smell him on you," he said. "I've been able to for weeks. Tell me, what is it like, trying to be his whore but only having him turn you down. Is it because you're not pretty enough? Or because—" The teen was thrown back by a vicious punch. Heinrich launched himself at the lower ranked Death Eater, knocking him to the ground. He would have taken advantage of the opportunity and cursed the older teen to an inch from death but Saskia hauled him away. Once Heinrich was off Gunther, Saskia grabbed the older boy's collar and yanked him up, pressing him against the wall, her grip tight on his throat.

"Don't you dare insult my son," she growled. "I know what you did last year and if you cross the line again, I'll kill you myself."

Heinrich stared at Saskia. She was much stronger than she looked if she was able to pin Gunther-a full-grown werewolf at this point- against the wall. And what did she mean when she said that she knew what Gunther did last year? Had something happened between the two before he had taken his memories?

Gunther snarled at Saskia but yelped when her grip on his throat tightened and her nails dug into his skin. After glaring at him for a few more seconds, Saskia tossed the boy to the ground.

"Get out," she snarled at Gunther. He obeyed, throwing a dirty look at Harry before he stormed out. Saskia turned back to see Heinrich staring at her with a look of amazement.

"You'd best return to the Dark Lord," she said. "Gunther isn't going to forgive that and it's best that you not be here when he gets angry again. If he challenges you on pack grounds, you have no choice but to fight him.

"I could take him," Heinrich stated confidently. Saskia quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"All challenges are fulfilled on the night of the full moon," she explained. "You would be facing a fully grown werewolf that's young and that has never been defeated in a challenge. Gunther is on his way to becoming the next pack leader and you're still unbitten."

Heinrich grumbled under his breath but didn't protest when Saskia called for Libby. The house elf stared at Heinrich, waiting for her orders. At Saskia's look, Heinrich sighed, resigned.

"Take me back to Malfoy Manor," he ordered, holding out his arm. The house elf grabbed it and when Heinrich opened his eyes again, they were in his quarters.

"Is young sir being injured?" Libby asked, glancing at Heinrich's hand. The green-eyed boy stared at it dully. His knuckles were bleeding from where he had punched Gunther and he was fairly sure they would be covered in bruises by the end of the night.

"I'm fine," he said. Libby gave him a doubtful look but said nothing, choosing instead to disappear and return to her normal chores.

It was still early afternoon, but Heinrich chose to change into his pajamas. He didn't plan on leaving his quarters for the rest of the day and he knew that Libby wouldn't order him down to dinner, not when his absence was already expected.

The green-eyed teen sighed, slightly disappointed by how the day had gone. He had just wanted some time away from Malfoy Manor but he was back several hours earlier than expected. It seemed like things refused to go the way he wanted them to.

If the Dark Lord was aware of his presence in the manor, he didn't stop by to ask questions. Heinrich was relieved but he spent the night sleeping fitfully, plagued by dreams and worries about what the following day would bring.

Heinrich wasn't sure what he preferred. He could do without the constant worrying but the dreams were more embarrassing. He hoped that the Dark Lord didn't make a habit about practicing Legilimency on him because he didn't want to man to see the various positions and scenarios that his mind came up with. One even featured them arguing in a graveyard, though Heinrich seemed much younger then.

* * *

Gunther growled under his breath and touched his jaw lightly. It was bruised and slightly swollen, which made him furious with humiliation. How had a human inflicted so much damage on him? He was a werewolf and that boy wasn't. Gunther was supposed to be the strong one, not that boy.

He snarled as the boy's face flashed in his mind. He hated the younger teen. He hated how the pack had allowed him to take Heinrich's place without asking any questions. Gunther was the only one who had protested but at the time, he had been one of the lowest members of the pack and no one had listened.

So he had tried to make them listen and when that didn't work, he had tried to get rid of the teen that was causing so many problems and taking his best friend's rightful place.

But the fire hadn't worked and neither had the poison. Gunther had been lucky that Fenrir hadn't caught up to him after the first attempt on the teen's life and that the alpha hadn't been around when the poisoning attempt had taken place. If Gunther had been caught either time, he knew that Fenrir Greyback would have killed him.

However, if he had managed to kill Harry Potter, the imposter of Heinrich Beltz, in the process, it would have been worth it.

With the teen now hidden away and at the Dark Lord's side, there had been little Gunther could do. He had tried to take advantage when the younger teen had returned to the pack's manor but Saskia had interfered before he could force the boy into a challenge.

Gunther knew that he wouldn't get away with killing the teen any longer, not while he was in the Dark Lord's household, but that didn't mean that he was out of options.

Not in the slightest.

Gunther had altered his plans. He still believed that Harry Potter deserved to die but it wouldn't happen right away. He wanted to put the boy in his place first, there was only one way he would be allowed to do so, and no one could protest.

He just had to turn Harry Potter into a werewolf.

Luckily he had the perfect role model to give him ideas how to complete such a task. Fenrir Greyback had been doing it for years with his enemies' children.

Shortly before sunset on the night of the full moon, Gunther put on his Death Eater robes and mask. He suspected that there would be some type of meeting and the garb would make it easy to fit in. Then he would just have to sneak away and wait for the moon to rise.

Then, once he was fully transformed, he would go hunting.

Harry Potter wouldn't know what was happening until it was too late.


	15. Chapter 15

Gunther found the perfect place in the Malfoy Manor gardens. There was a wooded area not too far from the rose bushes where he could hide in. It was a risky endeavor but Gunther believed that it would be well worth the risk.

The young werewolf was aware that Malfoy Manor had wards to repel werewolves but he also knew that if a transformed werewolf was already within the boundary of those wards, the repelling charms wouldn't be effective. His theory was proven right when the moon rose, forcing the transformation. After he had transformed—the hardest part was doing it in silence—there was nothing that forced him away from the manor.

The large disfigured wolf sniffed the air, searching for his target. The target was currently inside and Gunther had no way to get in. He could only hope that the boy came outside sometime tonight so that he could strike. The werewolf positioned itself as close to the target's smell as possible and settled down to wait.

* * *

Lord Voldemort couldn't focus. He was trying but the boy sitting across the desk from them was too alluring, too tempting. The man gave an irritated sigh when he noticed that he had spelled something wrong in his notes and pushed the parchment away. Until Heinrich went to bed, nothing would get done.

Green eyes watched the Dark Lord carefully. The man was irritated and Heinrich knew that could his irritation could take a few different paths. Voldemort would either hex him and send him away or the man would kiss the breath out of him and then send Heinrich away. Either way, his night was nearly at an end.

"Get a cloak," the Dark Lord commanded after a few seconds of tense silence. Green eyes blinked.

"What?"

The Dark Lord hissed in frustration.

"Get a cloak," he repeated. "I need to harvest ingredients for a few potions and you're coming with me."

"But I don't know anything about potions," Heinrich protested. He was thrown off guard by the Dark Lord's command. He had been hoping to go to bed soon, as it was already early morning and he had to be up in three or four hours.

"Even more reason then," the man said. "Go, now!"

Heinrich fled the study to obey. By the time he was in the entrance hall, Libby had already fetched and brought down a cloak.

"Why are you suddenly working on potions?" Heinrich asked as he caught up to Lord Voldemort. "I would have thought that you had others to make them for you."

"The only one I trust enough and that has skill enough is not currently available," the Dark Lord sneered. "And the ingredients need to be harvested tonight, while there is still snow on the ground. I've decided to do it myself to ensure that the harvesting is done right. The ingredients are very valuable and very delicate."

Heinrich looked down at his feet and hands.

"And you decided to bring me along why?" he asked slowly. He wasn't the most graceful of humans and he knew that he would probably mess something up.

Voldemort didn't answer his question. He waved his wand and the doors to the manor flung open, revealing the cold night weather. Heinrich shivered at the sight. It was snowing heavily and the wind was making it difficult to see. Heinrich hoped that Libby had grabbed one of his heavier cloaks because it looked cold beyond anything he could compare it to. The teen stared at the weather in slight dismay until he realized that Lord Voldemort had already stepped outside and was on his way toward the Malfoy gardens.

Red eyes looked around the empty grounds. Already he could see the red snow flowers that he needed to harvest, a light purple that stood out against the dark sky and the white snow. They would turn red after they had been cut and they faded to a violet if they were pulled from the ground but he didn't need either of those characteristics. He had to ensure that the flowers kept their original light purple color for the potion that he wanted to brew.

Heinrich trailed behind the older man, trying to spot what Voldemort could already see. He would have trampled the flowers to the ground if the older wizard hadn't frozen him with a spell.

"Do pay attention to your surroundings," the man sneered. Frozen, Heinrich couldn't even work the muscles in his face to sneer back. It was just as well. They were probably too numb to work properly anyone.

Heinrich wished that the man hadn't frozen him with a spell. His cloak wasn't fastened properly and it had blown slightly open. Since he couldn't move, there was no way for him to fix it and take refuge in the little warmth that the cloak gave him.

"So what makes these flowers so special?" Heinrich asked.

"When harvested, their colors change and so do their properties," the Dark Lord replied, sounding distracted. He cursed under his breath when his spell accidentally severed one of the veins in the plant and the blossom turned red. "When they're red and mixed together with summer flowers, they can cause painful cramps that will eventually lead to internal bleeding. When the blossoms are violet and have been dried out, they are commonly used in a potion that restores eyesight to those that have been blinded.

"But they're light purple now," Heinrich pointed out. "What properties do they have now?"

"It's rumored that they can restore youth but no one has actually managed to successfully make a potion containing light purple blossoms for the past three hundred years."

Heinrich rolled his green eyes. Of course. Restoration of youth. He should have known that it would be something like that.

In middle of rolling his eyes, the teen caught the glimpse of something large moving out of the corner of his eye. He could barely see it but there was definitely something moving behind them.

"My lord..." he said quietly, trying to warn the man.

"Quiet!" the Dark Lord ordered. He needed all of his focus.

"My lord." Heinrich repeated as he sensed the movement getting closer. Voldemort was preparing to turn around and curse the boy into silence but before he could, a large figure knocked the boy to the ground, breaking the freezing spell. Heinrich howled in pain as he felt something tearing into his arm—something that felt a lot like teeth.

With the reflexes that could only be learned through years of dueling, Voldemort had drawn his wand and had turned around before the first curse had even left the tip of his wand. The Cruciatus curse emerged from his wand as the Dark Lord found himself facing what was clearly a young werewolf with its jaws wrapped around Heinrich's arm. The creature yelped as the pain it but only adjusted its grip so that its teeth were now sinking into Heinrich's shoulder instead of his upper arm.

Not even bothering to think about a strategy, Lord Voldemort turned the creature to stone before blasting it to pieces with a well-placed spell. There was barely anything left but dust and the remnants of a stone tooth.

Heinrich coughed and Voldemort knelt beside him to examine the damage. The werewolf's attack had broken skin and there was already saliva seeping into the blood stream.

It was too late. The virus had been passed on.

The Dark Lord cursed before levitating the boy and bringing him inside.

"Libby," he called loudly. The house elf appeared, ears flopping nervously.

"Take the boy to his rooms and then summon Lucius and Narcissa. Bring Narcissa to the boy and inform her that a werewolf has bitten him. I need to talk with Lucius."

The house elf nodded once before disappearing to fulfill her orders. Within minutes, Lucius Malfoy was standing before the Dark Lord, not even having bothered to change out of his sleeping clothes.

"My lord?" he asked nervously.

"As soon as the sun has risen, you are to find Greyback and a female in his pack and bring them to me," the Dark Lord ordered, his voice cold and furious. "I demand answers."

Lucius nodded before fleeing the room. Lord Voldemort collapsed in his chair, cursing to himself. How had he not sensed the werewolf inside his wards? He had known something was off but nothing had informed him that there was a creature inside the wards that didn't belong.

He would have to go over them again. But first he had to deal with the werewolf that was supposed to be in charge of all other werewolves.

Fenrir Greyback would be lucky if he survived until noon.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy watched silently as Heinrich twisted and seized on the large bed, the virus working through his bloodstream. She had seen such transformations before and knew that the process would be complete at sunrise. There was nothing she could do until then. There was nothing that she wanted to do.

The woman frowned as the teen let out a yell and nearly fell out of the bed. It was only the binds that she had installed that prevented him from actually doing so.

As soon as Libby had brought her to the bedroom, Narcissa had known that there was only one thing that she could do until the process was complete—tie the boy to the bed to prevent him from hurting himself and others. She wouldn't even be able to bandage his wounded arm and shoulder until the virus had worked its way through his upper body.

There would be a nasty scar from where he had been bitten, another to add to his collection. There was always a scar that showed where a werewolf had been bitten and where the virus had originally been transferred.

Narcissa looked up as she heard the door open. Lucius walked in, his face ashen.

"The wards," he whispered.

"They were meant to keep things out," Narcissa replied coolly. "Not get rid of things that were already inside." The couple hoped that the Dark Lord would see things that way. Otherwise Lucius's life was forfeit and Narcissa would be alone in the manor with only the Dark Lord and a werewolf to keep her company until Draco returned home for the summer.

"The Dark Lord?" Narcissa asked.

"Clearly not happy," Lucius replied. "However, it's in his right. The attack broke the treaty he had formed with Greyback and I'm sure that the werewolf will suffer greatly because of that. I'm to fetch him and a female werewolf at sunrise."

"Why a female?" Narcissa asked, with a small sneer. She sniffed in disdain. Lucius didn't reply. He didn't know why the Dark Lord had requested a female werewolf to be brought before him. Was it to turn the boy over to her care or would she be a casualty of the broken treaty?

Fenrir wasn't happy when he saw Lucius Malfoy waiting at the manor for him but he couldn't ignore the Dark Mark that was quickly becoming red.

"What do you want?" he snarled. Malfoy sneered in return.

"The Dark Lord is requesting your presence and that of one of your females," he said, passing on the message. Fenrir growled. He didn't appreciate being summoned so soon after a transformation.

"Saskia!" he shouted and gestured for the woman to come over. Saskia approached, watching Malfoy carefully. She yelped in surprise when the blond man grabbed her arm and felt the sensation of apparating away.

Fenrir Greyback was on his back as soon as he entered Malfoy Manor. He yowled and cursed in pain as he was forced to deal with the Cruciatus curse, which was quickly succeeded by a few cutting curses. Saskia watched in silent shock, not fighting the gasp that Lucius Malfoy still had on her arm. She didn't want to draw the Dark Lord's attention to her.

"Tell me, Fenrir," the Dark Lord hissed. "Why one of your werewolves transformed inside the wards of this manor and attacked?"

Greyback's eyes widened.

"What?" he asked and yelped as he was subjected to another Cruciatus curse. "My lord, it's impossible. My pack was with me the entire night. No one was missing." The force of the curse intensified until he was no longer able to speak.

"Do not lie!" the Dark Lord raged. "I know that you are lying because there is a boy currently upstairs undergoing the transformation after being bitten!"

Saskia's dark eyes widened and she let out a cry that was quickly muffled. There was only one boy that could be.

Lord Voldemort heard her cry and turned toward her. Saskia was quickly going through the events of the night before, trying to identify if anyone had been missing. Her eyes widened even further when she realized that she hadn't smelled one wolf the night before.

"Gunther," she whispered, before biting her lip to prevent from crying out when the Cruciatus was turned on her. After a few seconds, it eased.

"Take her to the boy," Voldemort ordered Lucius. "She'll oversee the rest of the transformation."

Lucius nodded before dragging the woman out of the room by her upper arm.

"Are you aware of whom the boy is?" he asked her. Saskia nodded, glaring at the man until he released her.

"I was the one who was ordered to pretend to be his mother because I lost my original son to the horrors of Azkaban," she snapped. "I'm very well aware of who the boy is."

Lucius's gray eyes flickered in anger at her tone but they had arrived at Heinrich's rooms. Saskia brushed past him through the door, eyes softening when she saw the teen tied to the bed. He was still and looked as if he could be sleeping.

Narcissa glanced at the woman.

"You are a werewolf?" she asked. Saskia nodded silently.

"When was he bitten?" she asked Narcissa, voice strangely calm.

"Around one in the morning," Narcissa replied. "It's been about four or five hours since he was attacked."

"A fast transformation, then," Saskia said. "Do you have any Draught of the Living Death in the manor?"

"Why would that be necessary?" Narcissa demanded. "The transformation is over with. He just needs to wake up now."

Saskia gave a derisive snort. "There's a full moon tonight as well. If he transforms tonight, it could very well kill him. The Draught will prevent the transformation for the night and it will give him some time to recover before having to go through the process of transformation."

Narcissa sniffed and Saskia glared at the woman. "Most werewolves that are bitten on the first night of the full moon don't survive the following night," she explained. "The transformation of turning into a wolf is one of the most stressful and painful experiences that a wizard or witch will ever experience and if the body doesn't have time to recover from the wounds and shock of the attack, the heart will give out in the middle of the transformation."

"Animagi never say anything about the pain from the transformation."

"Because the magic transfigures the bones from human to animal," Saskia growled. "There's no pain when bones are transfigured, only when they are reshaped to fit with a form that isn't natural. Have you seen a fully transformed werewolf?" When Narcissa shook her head, Saskia smirked. "We don't look like normal wolves. Our form isn't natural so our bones can't shape to form something natural. When you try to force an object to do something unnatural, it will protest and often lead to excruciating pain. The pain lasts until the sun rises and we transform back. That's why we're so vicious."

"The Wolfsbane Potion—what does that do then?"

Saskia shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "I've never taken it."

"You would knowingly put others at risk when you have the choice—" Narcissa began but she was cut off.

"I should clarify," Saskia said dryly. "I've never had the opportunity to take it. Only one percent of werewolves get the opportunity. Wolfsbane isn't exactly mass-produced. One cauldron will only make enough dosage for one werewolf for one full moon. It's too time consuming to make it for every single werewolf and there isn't anyone who wants to try."

The two women stared at each other silently before turning to face the unconscious teen. After a few minutes, Narcissa stood up and went into the living area to summon a house elf and order it to fetch a dose of the Draught of the Living Death that they had in their stores.

Saskia accepted the vial quietly a few minutes later when Narcissa returned before opening the teen's mouth and pouring it down his throat. She rubbed his throat gently to make sure that the liquid was actually swallowed.

"Were you aware of this attack?" Narcissa asked. Saskia glanced at her.

"It wasn't something that the pack had planned," she said. "And we didn't know until this morning. Things on the first night can be confusing and the older wolves are more concerned with those undergoing their first transformations. We had quite a few last night, so it was easy for someone to slip away unnoticed."

"Sloppy," Narcissa remarked. Saskia inclined her head. Their lack of awareness could certainly be considered sloppy.

"I lost my son to the curse," Saskia said after a few moments of silence. "I wasn't aware that he had been bitten. The same werewolf that killed my son is responsible for this current situation."

"He's dead now. The Dark Lord killed him," Narcissa commented, unsure why she was being told this.

"The werewolf who did this was destined to become Fenrir's heir," Saskia explained. "Greyback made the announcement after the last full moon. By pack law, the one who kills a werewolf takes their place in the pack but a non-werewolf can never be an alpha or the heir to an alpha."

"So?" Narcissa sniffed. "Your hierarchy is of no concern of mine."

"A lot of the pack will see him," Saskia said, gesturing to the boy, "as the next heir. They'll want him to come back and live with the pack."

"The Dark Lord will never allow that," Narcissa realized.

"Which could lead to war and if the pack goes to war against the Dark Lord, he'll view us as joining the light side, which means that everything we've done since summer has gone to waste."

"And the boy returns to the light side and winning the war no longer becomes a sure thing," Narcissa said, filling in the gaps. "I think your worries are unfounded. The Dark Lord will surely be aware of this and will not allow Greyback or your pack to get the advantage over him."

Saskia inclined her head. She hoped that the woman was right in putting her faith in the Dark Lord. Saskia was growing sick of war and didn't want to pursue another one in addition to the one that was already being fought.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many many thanks to kmoaton for betaing. This chapter wouldn't be half of what it is without her input and patience with me.

Lord Voldemort stared down at Fenrir Greyback. The werewolf was no longer capable of moving and could barely speak but that didn't matter. He had already gotten the information and the promises that he had needed.

"At the end of this full moon, if the boy is still living, you will name him as your heir," he hissed. "However, as per our agreement, you and your pack will give up all rights to the boy in exchange for your life and the life of your pack."

"Yes, my lord," Fenrir rasped.

"Until the announcement is made, the female that you brought with will remain here in the manor as a…good faith agreement. Once that task is completed, she will return to you if she wishes."

The werewolf was barely able to nod his head in agreement. The Dark Lord's red eyes glared down at him.

"Leave," he ordered, before leaving the room and heading for Heinrich's personal rooms. He doubted that the wolf would actually be able to leave without assistance but Voldemort knew that the house elves would be physically throwing Greyback out of the manor in a matter of minutes.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy got to her feet with Saskia swiftly following her actions when the werewolf caught a glimpse of who had entered the room. Saskia kept her head down, not wanting to draw attention to herself. A quick sniff told her that Fenrir's blood was on the man's robes, a silent warning of what the Dark Lord was capable of doing. The female werewolf held her breath as she caught a whiff of a second scent—the smell of her adopted son. So the boy had been closer to becoming consort than heir. She hoped that the events of tonight hadn't destroyed that chance.

"The boy?" Saskia held back a shiver at the emotionless tone.

"He will survive, my lord," Narcissa answered smoothly. "He has been given the Draught of the Living Death until the last night of the full moon has passed to prevent a transformation."

Saskia felt eyes land on her.

"Your decision?" she was asked.

"Yes, my lord," Saskia whispered. She was surprised her whisper was even heard.

"Why the Draught of the Living Death?"

Saskia bowed her head even further.

"Unless they have time to heal from the original bite and wounds, those under the age of twenty normally do not survive the first transformation. If they do, they are usually crippled or disabled for life." Her voice grew more confident and louder as she spoke. "The Draught allows for a better chance of survival."

"And why did Greyback bring you?" Voldemort demanded. "You are not the healer I have seen in the past."

"I was the one that pretended to be the boy's mother," Saskia explained carefully. Her dark eyes flicked up but flicked back down as soon as she met cold red eyes.

The Dark Lord said nothing for a few minutes. Eventually, he turned and swept out of the room. Saskia let out the breath that she had been holding, noting that Narcissa did the same. After the women recovered, Saskia asked a question.

"What's the nature of the Dark Lord's relationship with the boy?"

Narcissa raised an eyebrow but responded anyway.

"It changes daily. He plays with the boy, favoring him one day and punishing him the next. During the first war, I saw him do it with many. I do not believe that he holds any true affection for the boy."

"Will it change now?" Saskia inquired mildly, not really expecting a positive reply. Narcissa glanced at the boy tied to the bed.

"It's impossible to tell with the Dark Lord," she admitted. "However, he will win this war at whatever cost, even if that means breeding with a werewolf and the poster child of the light."

Saskia resisted the urge to hit the woman. Narcissa's voice was dripping with scorn and faint disgust. The woman's reaction was nothing new and should have been expected. Saskia was surprised that the woman had ignored her prejudices for as long as she did.

The female werewolf turned away. She would just have to be consoled with the knowledge that if the Dark Lord did continue to pursue a relationship with the teen and eventually make him his consort, a werewolf would be put in a position above everyone else in Great Britain. A werewolf would sit at the Dark Lord's side.

Saskia smirked. That would definitely make all the purebloods squirm. She would be _extremely_ content if that would ever happen.

* * *

Heinrich awoke with a harsh cough. The back of his throat was on fire and his mouth tasted like he had swallowed something disgusting. The teen's tongue rolled around his teeth, trying to get the taste out of his mouth before another cough overtook him.

When the coughing fit faded, someone shoved his glasses on his face. The teen blinked a few times and when his eyes focused, he could see Saskia standing above him.

"What happened?" he asked. "What are you doing here?" Even with Saskia's face blocking most of his view, he could recognize his bedroom at Malfoy Manor. Saskia moved to the side and withdrew a dagger. Heinrich flinched and realized that he couldn't move. It was only when Saskia began cutting near the bed frame did he realize that he had been tied to the bed.

"What do you last remember?" Saskia asked.

"Being frozen to the ground by a hex and trying to warn the Dark Lord that I spotted something behind us. Then I was hit by something large and heavy."

"That's more than most remember," Saskia remarked. "Most tend to block out the attack."

"Attack?" Heinrich questioned. Then he realized. "It was a werewolf, wasn't it? I was bitten?"

"Gunther," Saskia replied softly. "The Dark Lord killed him." Her voice was cool, lacking any real emotion over the loss of the other teen.

Heinrich wasn't surprised. The man had probably seen it as an attack on his own life and had acted accordingly.

"And the pack?" he asked. Saskia gave a small shrug.

"Taking care of Fenrir, I would guess," she said. "The Dark Lord also deemed him responsible for the attack, though he didn't kill Fenrir. I haven't been able to return to the pack since I was summoned here but I assume all are still alive."

"Why not?" Heinrich asked but Saskia refused to answer. As she released the last of the ropes that bound him, Heinrich sat up. As he turned to crack his back and rub the blood flow back into his shoulders and arms, he spotted the scars.

Green eyes widened and his fingers trailed over the scars lightly. They went from his elbow to his shoulder and collarbone.

"I was bitten," he realized. Saskia nodded and watched as the teen's face fell before it quickly became emotionless. She sighed and sat on the bed, rubbing the muscles in his legs that had seized up and stiffened over the past few days, waiting for Harry to reveal his thoughts.

After a few moments of silence, Heinrich finally spoke.

"Are you here to take me back to the pack?" he asked. Saskia blinked in surprise.

"I don't believe so," she said. "The Dark Lord didn't order for me to take you with me, so it makes me believe that you will stay here."

"What if I want to go back with you?" Heinrich asked. "If I want to leave?"

Saskia frowned. "You would have to discuss that with the Dark Lord and get his permission," she said slowly. "It would be too dangerous to take you away without his permission, not only for you but also for the entire pack."

Heinrich frowned in return. He doubted that Voldemort would let him leave, not with his tendency to be overly possessive.

"It would be for the best, though," he remarked. "I'm a werewolf now. It could cost him followers if the Death Eaters discovered that—" he cut himself off as he spotted a figure enter the doorway. Saskia glanced behind her and immediately stood up, lowering her eyes so that she was staring at the floor.

"My lord," she said quietly.

"Leave us," Voldemort ordered and Saskia quickly obeyed. Heinrich stared at the wizard and drew down his sleeve to hide the scars of his bite.

"My lord," he murmured, averting his eyes. They stood in silence before Heinrich decided it would be best if he verbalized his thoughts.

"I can leave by tonight," he said quickly. "I don't want you to lose any followers over me. Besides, I'm just a werewolf. I don't really matter now."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lord Voldemort hissed. "Fenrir and I reached an agreement. Since his heir attacked you and is now dead, you have been named heir. If Greyback dies, you would become alpha over nearly three-quarters of the werewolves in Great Britain. That population would easily make up for any followers that I would lose, though I doubt I would lose many. They would be too afraid of offending the heir and the retaliation of the werewolves that would follow."

Heinrich stared up at the man. Did that mean…?

"So you want me to remain here?" he asked.

"Things will return to normal. Don't let your condition affect you any further. Be prepared for your lessons tomorrow morning," Lord Voldemort declared before turning on his heel and leaving. Green eyes stared after him in disbelief.

Voldemort had refused to mention the reason why he hadn't already killed Fenrir for his lack of supervision, though he had been sorely tempted to. He didn't want the boy taking over the werewolves just yet. The boy wasn't strong enough to fight off any challenges for the position of alpha that would surely come and Voldemort couldn't risk any werewolves that aligned themselves with Dumbledore to challenge. He also didn't want the boy in the position of alpha in case his memories ever came back. If Harry was alpha if that happened…he would lose most of the support he had gathered from the creatures. Only when the war was truly over would he kill Fenrir and allow the boy to assume his position in the pack.

Heinrich was still sitting in a stupor of disbelief when Libby brought Saskia back.

"Well?" she asked.

"I'm to stay here," Heinrich announced and he couldn't prevent the smile that was starting to creep onto his face.

Saskia couldn't help but frown when she saw the smile. As much as she would relish one of her own becoming consort to the Dark Lord, she didn't like the thought of Harry becoming too attached to the man, let alone fall in love with him. It would just end in pain.

With the exception of the scars on his upper arm and shoulder, Heinrich was declared healthy by both Saskia and Narcissa. As soon as he could walk around his quarters a few times, Saskia decided to leave for the pack, to learn of their reactions to Heinrich being named heir to the alpha. She already knew of a few that would have some issues with this newest development.

* * *

A week after the attack, Lord Voldemort summoned Severus Snape to Malfoy Manor.

"My lord?" the man asked after he had arrived and had properly greeted the Dark Lord.

"I have a task for you," Voldemort hissed. "A potion that needs brewing for this month and every month after until I order you to stop."

Severus gave a slow nod, the confusion apparent in his dark eyes. He was rarely given orders to brew potions and it was extremely rare that he would brew the same potion multiple times. His responsibilities as a professor prevented him from brewing as much as other Potions Masters could.

"The old man still has you brewing the Wolfsbane potion for the werewolf Lupin?" Lord Voldemort asked.

"Yes, my lord," Severus Snape replied, black eyes narrowing as his mind raced.

"When you brew his potion, you will make a quantity for a second werewolf," Voldemort ordered. "If the old man asks, you are merely experimenting to make the potion more effective."

Snape inclined his head. "Of course, my lord," he murmured. "As you order."

After being given his orders, Severus Snape didn't hang around Malfoy Manor, choosing instead to go to Dumbledore. This new information would be very valuable to the Order.

"Severus?" Albus Dumbledore questioned when he saw the spy standing outside his office door after dinner had finished.

"The Dark Lord summoned me today," the Potions professor said quietly as he was allowed to enter the office. "He ordered me to make Wolfsbane for this month and every month thereafter."

Albus's blue eyes stopped twinkling and the lines around his mouth grew more prominent as he frowned.

"We already knew that the werewolves have aligned themselves with Voldemort for the most part," he said.

"But he's never ordered Wolfsbane for any of them," Severus explained. "He leaves them to get ahold of the potion themselves if they want it."

"And you think it means something?"

Severus Snape nodded.

"I think he's gotten close to a werewolf," he said carefully. "Closer than he's allowed himself to anyone else."

"Do you think that it's the red masked Death Eater?" Dumbledore asked, blue eyes narrowing. Severus could only shrug.

"If it is, it must be a recent development," he said. "That Death Eater has been around since the summer and it's only now that the potion has been commissioned."

"So it was a recent bite or the old supplier has died," Dumbledore said. "Or it's someone else that we aren't aware of. The question is who…. We still have no identities for either case. Maybe Lupin…"

Severus shook his head. "The Dark Lord asked about him by name. Lupin is no longer of any use when it comes to infiltrating the packs that follow Voldemort. He needs to be pulled out from his current position because if Voldemort knows, then Greyback surely does as well. He's a liability."

Albus sighed and bent his head. "He's not going to like hearing that."

Severus only offered a sneer in response.

"Try to find out the identity of this werewolf when you deliver the Wolfsbane," Dumbledore decided. "We need to know if there's any chance of possibly getting this werewolf on our side. Though I do wonder…"

Severus held back a derisive comment. Fat chance of that, he already knew. No one got that close to the Dark Lord unless the man was absolutely positive of their loyalty to him and his cause. No one wanted to get that close, unless they were as mad as Voldemort himself.

* * *

Staring down at the plans for upcoming raids, Heinrich grit his teeth as he felt his muscles spasm and twitch. It had been happening all day and while it wasn't painful, it was very annoying, especially when it caused him to drop his wand or stumble around until the spasms pass.

It had been nearly a month since his attack and Heinrich had a feeling that these new symptoms he was experiencing were a forewarning of the upcoming full moon. Tomorrow. He would change for the first time tomorrow.

And there was a raid on the second day of the full moon. Though he doubted Voldemort would actually allow it, just the sliver of possibility that he could be sent on the raid that night made Heinrich nauseous.

He pointed to it when he felt Voldemort's eyes rest upon him. "What is the purpose of this raid?" he asked quietly.

"Does there need to be a reason?" Lord Voldemort responded. "This is just a reward and to remind the Ministry that our numbers are growing day by day while they sit by and do nothing."

"Will I—"

"Absolutely not," the Dark Lord snapped, before he could even finish the sentence. "I won't risk my Death Eaters on someone who won't be able to control themselves."

"It was just a question," the teenager growled out in frustration. "There's no need to get your panties in a twist."

The newly turned werewolf yelped as the Cruciatus curse was quickly thrown at him, unable to hold back his cries of pain as the sensation of white-hot knives pierced and twisted under skin. Heinrich collapsed to the ground, unable to support his body under the torture.

The curse was lifted after only a few seconds, but Heinrich was still panting as he pushed himself into a kneeling position. He nearly collapsed again as his muscles spasmed again, this time throughout his entire body. Drops of sweat slid down his forehead and neck as the effort to keep himself upright and silent almost became too much to bear.

"More sensitive than usual, are we?" Voldemort hissed as he crouched in front of Heinrich. The man cradled the side of Heinrich's head gently before his fingers fisted in the teenager's hair. "Because of the upcoming full moon perhaps? Don't worry, I can be forgiving this once."

Green eyes lifted and when they met red, Heinrich grimaced as the grip on his hair tightened. He quickly glanced down, not wanting to push his luck any further today.

"Has it been hard, controlling your temper all day when all you've wanted to do is tear the throat out of everyone who gets in your way?" Voldemort asked, whispering in Heinrich's ear. "The unexplained agitation and restlessness? The sensitivity to noise, magic…everything? You don't need to be so controlled. You can take it out on some unsuspecting soul. I'd even encourage it…it's always highly entertaining."

"I'm not some pit bull that you can put in a fighting ring," Heinrich muttered and flinched when Voldemort released his hair and stood up, expecting the pain of the Cruciatus curse again.

But it never came.

"Come to my rooms after dinner tonight," the Dark Lord ordered. "There are a few things you can do there to get rid of all that extra tension you're feeling today."

Heinrich nodded and kept his eyes trained on the ground as Voldemort swept out of the room. His stomach twisted nervously as he processed the order. He knew what the man meant; there was no other meaning behind those words. He had been waiting for them for weeks now but that didn't stop the nervousness from flooding through every part of his body.

It was at times like this when Heinrich wished he had someone to talk to, someone who would help him listen and untangle the messy knot his thoughts and emotions could become.

But there was no one. The one person Heinrich might consider going to for advice and clarity was no longer around.

The dark-haired teen shook his head and slowly got to his feet. His legs were shaky but he was able to stand on his own, something that couldn't be said for many Death Eaters who voiced something that the Dark Lord didn't like. Heinrich was well aware that he had gotten off lightly and he was thankful for that small mercy. It was more than he had ever expected from Lord Voldemort.

The rest of the day passed painfully slow for Heinrich, who grew more anxious and agitated as the hours dragged on. The muscle spasms became less of an irritation and more of a growing pain in his body and by the time dinner came around, Heinrich jerked violently whenever one occurred, causing him to drop his cutlery many times and spilling his water glass all over the table. His mishaps only caused to bring further attention to the tension that was building up in the room.

The Malfoy couple was completely silent throughout the meal. Lucius kept his attention on the Dark Lord while Narcissa was more focused on Heinrich, though she made sure to keep Voldemort in the corner of her eye at all times.

Lord Voldemort himself didn't seem to be aware of the underlying tension in the room. He didn't seem to be aware of anything, Heinrich realized, which was probably why the Malfoys were so nervous. A distracted Dark Lord was a dangerous one.

Well, more dangerous than normal.

Everyone breathed a silent sigh of relief when Voldemort left the dinner table after the main course was finished, bypassing dessert completely. Heinrich finished his plate in a few quick bites, knowing what was expected from him now. He needed to move quickly, as it wouldn't be wise to keep his Lord waiting.

As Heinrich stood up, dismissing himself from the table, Narcissa caught his elbow gently. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped before any words left her mouth. With an apologetic look containing a hint of sadness underneath, she drew her hand away.

Heinrich bit his lip as he walked away from the dinner table. He debated about stopping by his room but there was no need for that. It would only be delaying the inevitable.

As nervous as he was, Heinrich knew it wasn't because of Voldemort and what he might be capable of. He wanted this, even though he knew he had to be mad to actually want any sort of relationship with the Dark Lord. However, it was what he wanted and he just needed to get tonight over with to get past this bout of nervousness. This aspect of their relationship would become normal, just like kisses had. Like the mood swings had. Like everything had.

Green eyes stared blankly at the door that separated him from Voldemort, not having expected to arrive at their destination so soon. Heinrich took a deep breath as he raised his fist and knocked. He waited for a second or two, though it felt more like minutes before he heard the reply.

"Enter."

Heinrich turned the doorknob, opening the door as silently as he could. The Dark Lord stood in the middle of the room, every part of him completely bare. Heinrich froze, startled at the slightly unexpected sight. When the older wizard lifted a thin eyebrow, Heinrich flinched before spinning to close the door. Then, without being ordered, the teen kneeled, his eyes alternating between the floor and his Lord.

Voldemort approached him slowly, eyes never leaving his target. Heinrich shifted uncomfortably, resisting the urge to lash out either physically or verbally. He wasn't used to feeling like prey. He was a predator—

Heinrich quickly lowered his eyes and pushed away those thoughts. Now was not the time for his new werewolf side to rise to the surface. As he took a few shuddering breaths, Heinrich forced away the urges to attack and his muscles quivered with the effort it took.

He gave a sudden jerk when a cool hand touched his shoulder to push his robes off. Heinrich bit his lip as he felt his robes pool around his waist and legs and with a quick upward slash of his wand, Heinrich's underclothes disappeared, leaving him as naked as the other man.

Lord Voldemort stared down at the teen, taking in every shiver and every nervous twitch. A cruel smile briefly crossed his lips before he yanked Heinrich to his feet and pushed him against the wall, pressing their lips together in a dominating kiss.

The next part of the night was a blur to Heinrich, a mixture of equal parts pleasure and pain. Heinrich had a feeling that bruises and bites marks were going to cover his body in the morning but as Voldemort thrust inside him, he found he didn't care. He only cared for the overwhelming pleasure and longed for the release that he was denied time and time again before the Dark Lord decided to end that form of torture.

* * *

Heinrich stared into the red eyes gleaming down at him. He couldn't make out specific features, because his glasses had been tossed aside and because the room was dark, but there was no mistaking that shade of red.

The only noise in the room was coming from their heavy breathing. Heinrich grimaced at the stickiness on his abdomen as the aftermath of their activities that had finished only moments before began to dry.

Heinrich's breathing slowed as he started to regain his breath. He had no regrets. The past hour had been amazing and had surpassed his expectations. He had worried about the coolness that Voldemort seemed to project but he hadn't minded in the midst of all the thrusting and grinding of hips. In fact, he had barely noticed once he had been accustomed to the difference in body temperatures.

Green eyes fluttered closed as red eyes continued to roam the smaller body. When Lord Voldemort's eyes landed on the scars that marred the teen's shoulder and arm, his hand on Heinrich tightened and nails dug painfully into the younger man's skin. He loathed their presence on the wizard's body, hated that someone else had put them there. He had done his best to cover them with his own marks as well as covered the rest of Heinrich's body with similar marks but they were still visible and the sight of them angered him. He had marked Heinrich first and he would kill anyone else who had dared to do the same.

Heinrich opened his eyes in surprise at the sudden reaction. He turned to face the Dark Lord.

"Again?" he asked, misreading the look in the man's eyes. Lord Voldemort frowned but as he felt his lower half begin to twitch, he nodded. If Heinrich was offering, the Dark Lord would surely take advantage of it.


End file.
